Redemption
by Luminous Lu
Summary: After a year and a half apart, Beckett and Castle meet again. The path to recovering their relationship won't be easy, but easy things are never worth it. Rated T for now. Warning: features issues like violence against women and sexual assault.
1. One

_Author's Note:_

_My darling, darling readers,_

_I caved and finally decided to write a Castle fan fiction! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. My plan is to post a couple of times a week, maybe three times on a good week, but I can't promise more than that, chapter-wise. _

_I'm open to reviews and criticism; I believe that's how you grow as a writer or as any kind of artist, so talk to me, let me know what you think of the chapters, give me ideas, tell me things. I love communicating with my readers and I'll do my best to reply to your reviews! _

_I have to acknowledge my wonderful beta reader, **Caffeine-Faerie**. She's been so patient and kind and I couldn't be more grateful. _Also, english isn't my first language, so any mistake you see is my fault. My fabulous beta can only do so much and I can be stubborn about my mistakes, sometimes. __

_Oh, right, the disclaimer. I do not own Castle or any of its characters. They're all property Andrew Marlowe, ABC and whoever has the rights for the show and its franchise. I'm merely enjoying some time with these wonderful characters._

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><p><strong>Redemption<strong>

* * *

><p>I.<p>

The soft ding of the bell above the door filled Kate Beckett's chest with a sense of comfort she very rarely got these days. She opened it firmly, feeling the cold metal of the doorknob against the warmth of her bare hand and allowing it to awaken her further. If that didn't work, the entire book store in front of her would.

This place, this tiny book store had been her place of comfort for the past year or so. It was a little dark place she had found while wandering aimlessly at night, walking off her insomnia, and the picturesque quality of the place had drawn her in immediately. The doors were wooden, as was the inside of the store, all painted in white. The tall shelves were filled to the brim with books without seeming organization or order. For a moment, when she had looked through the glass at the inside of the store for the first time, she had wondered how the owners and employees could ever find anything. However, as she started to visit it regularly, she had come to realize that despite not having a coherent system, it never took the couple that owned it more than a couple of minutes to find a book.

The old store was owned by an elderly Italian couple, Marco and Gia Bellotti, who had quickly become friends with Kate. Their warm manners and sense of protectiveness over that girl that had entered the store in a crying mess, one afternoon, had brought them together; they allowed her to sit on one of the couches in the small living room, and more often than not, Gia would bring her tea and spend a couple of hours talking to the young woman.

Kate stepped inside the store and was greeted by Gia's warm smile from the other side of the counter. She walked swiftly towards the old woman, trying her best to return the smile, but it just didn't come out.

"Hello, _bella_." Gia greeted, and Kate was finally able to manage a small smile. It wasn't easy to spot, but it was there. "How are you doing today?"

"I'm fine, thanks." she laid her hand on the old wooden counter and traced it with her fingers, feeling the texture underneath her skin. It was rough in some parts and smooth in others, demonstrating the lack of varnish in a couple of areas.

"_Ecco_." Gia looked at Kate with a stern expression, letting her know with her eyes that she knew she was anything but fine. Instead of insisting, though, the old woman turned around and flipped the switch that turned on the reading room lights, allowing Kate to move there. "There you go. Your place is all lit up."

Kate let go of the wood beneath her hands and nodded, starting to move to the reading area. "Thank you, Gia."

The reading room of the bookstore was what Kate thought to be a small living room that the Bellottis had turned into a public area. It had a couple of couches and arm chairs, all turned towards a fireplace and with their backs turned to the store. It smelled of lavender and had a soft light that didn't make reading easier, but which was very inviting. Kate had a favorite spot near the fireplace, in a two-person couch with a table to the side. She approached it and placed her purse on the couch, taking off her scarf and coat and laying them above the bag. She moved to the bookshelf and took the book she had bought earlier that week and that she had kept there to come back to later. It had one of her favorite bookmarkers on the inside and she smiled as she pulled it softly.

There were very few places in the world where Kate Beckett could feel truly comfortable, and this was one of them. Ever since a year and half ago, when her life had started to slowly but steadily change, she had run out of places where she could shelter herself from the world, without having memories, good and bad, assault her and take over her thoughts.

It had all started with Montgomery's death, and Castle leaving. They had done it - they had been finally together - and not two weeks later, he decided to follow Alexis to Stanford, and move to California. She had been broken, but she hadn't allowed him to see that. Instead, she had retracted so far into herself that even Lanie could barely reach her. And then the unfortunate events had started to pile up; her father's illness, the Salling case and how broken it had left her, her new boss — everything had worked towards putting her to the ground. It had been a tough year and a half, but she was here, she had made it. She still didn't feel like herself, but she was alive and she forced herself to think that it was all that mattered.

Kate took off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, almost kneeling against the arm of the couch, and opened her book. The pages were still new, the middle hadn't been cracked. She marveled for a moment at the sense of promise that came from a book that was still barely touched, and she managed to find comfort in that. She was alive, and she could read a book. She would have to turn it into all that she needed.

She read for a while, not noticing the time until she felt a soft hand on her shoulder, and looked up to see a mug of hot chocolate in front of her. She smiled and took it, thanking the man who sat beside her with a mug of his own cradled between his large hands. Marco Bellotti had probably been quite the heartbreaker in his time, but now, at almost eighty years old, he was the image of a kind, compassionate grandfather. His blue eyes were now hidden behind the glasses that he liked to keep on the tip of his nose, which prompted Gia to move over to him occasionally and tenderly push them up to his eyes. The checkered shirt he was wearing smelled of mint and tobacco and it was the closest Kate could be to a comforting sense of family, sometimes. Right now, with a soft smile on his face and a playful expression in his eyes, he warmed her heart.

"So, _Caterina_. What puts you in a funk today?" he asked, and she laughed softly at his use of slang. He used to say he liked to keep up with the common vocabulary, having been a linguistics professor in a college, earlier in his life.

Kate sighed and smelled the chocolate before opening her mouth to speak. It often took her a minute or two to come down from the place books put her in. And that Patterson novel surely put her in a far off place. A place where he was still in her life.

"I'm fine, Marco. It's just life."

"Bullshit." He loved to curse. It was something she loved about him, how bold he was at that age. The stereotype she'd grown up with made her expect an Italian Octogenarian to be prudish, not a potty mouth.

"What can I say?" she sighed into her hot chocolate. "Some days are better, others are worse."

"How's your father doing?" he asked, his eyes going from concerned to calm when Kate finally smiled widely.

"He's better. A couple more tests and we'll be sure he's in remission." a shred of happiness finally reached her chest, but it was quickly muffled by the recurrent fear and the pessimism she had become used to.

"That's wonderful news! I need to go visit him one of these days." Marco sipped his chocolate and smiled goofily at Kate, his mouth covered by the thick mix. "There's still something wrong."

"It's just..." she stopped talking and used the mug to warm her hands for a second. "I should be happy. I should be able to feel this overwhelming happiness because of my father's news, and it's like..."

"It's like the cloud is constantly hovering. Right?"

Kate smiled and took a sip of her chocolate "Exactly."

Marco leaned towards the table and placed his empty mug on it, sitting back on the couch, close to Beckett.

"You know why that is, right?" She shrugged. "It is, my darling, because you have a broken heart. And the broken parts let all the happiness slip."

"It's that simple, huh?" her sarcastic smile seemed to make Marco even more certain of what he was saying.

"Of course it isn't simple. It's very complicated. And hard to heal." He placed a hand over hers in a paternal fashion. "If I knew the man who broke you, I'd kick his ass. But you're all secretive and won't let me know!"

She laughed, now. Marco usually had that power over her, to make her laugh when everything was dark around her, and he was doing it now. She knew as well as he did that he couldn't take a younger man in a fight, but the fact that he wanted to do it was enough for her to feel a sense of warmth take over her chest.

"I'm sure you would. But it would be kind of hard, you know? He lives across the country now."

"That bastard." he muttered, and she nodded.

"You can say that again." she replied, wanting to feel that way more than she actually was. It was easier to hate him, to demean him in her mind, but she knew that what he had done was noble. Alexis was having trouble adapting, so he had followed her to school to help her out. And she knew she could never compete with his daughter, nor should she. But the way he had made his decision without consulting her, knowing how hard it had been for her to open up to him, had broken her heart. And to be honest, it had broken her ability to trust anyone in that sense.

Marco got up from the couch and placed a soft kiss on Kate's head.

"Keep reading, _bella_. I'm needed at the counter." and with those words, he left.

A couple of hours later, Kate was done with the novel and in need of a new one. It was still the middle of the afternoon, and she had been forced to take a day off — something Montgomery would never have made her do — and she didn't want to spend it alone, at home. She got up from the couch, putting her shoes back on, and moved toward the shelves that were lined up with books coming out of every nook and cranny, almost as if they were too full. Well, they were.

It was a quiet place. The store had little but constant movement, so it was never hectic and she could find her tiny bit of peace simply by wandering through the book-covered corridors. She walked for a couple of seconds until she her eyes fell on an old, rugged copy of Mrs. Dalloway, one of her favorite books. She couldn't help herself as she took it out of its place and opened it up, smelling the antiqueness of the edition, together with the less than obvious humidity of the store, and she closed her eyes for a second.

"Oh."

Kate thought she was dreaming. She thought that by closing her eyes she had accidentally fallen asleep and been dragged to one of those tortuous dreams where waking up was worse than staying asleep. Where he was still there and she could still hear his voice. But then she felt the pain of a papercut when the book dropped from her hands, and she opened her eyes, only to stare at his figure at the end of the corridor.

"Kate, I didn't..."

She couldn't speak. She was too stunned, too surprised, to even form a coherent phrase. How many times had she dreamt about this moment, playing it time and time again in her mind, in the first few months after he left? Now he was too late. It didn't fit her mind, it didn't fit because she wasn't wearing a tight dress and it didn't fit because she wasn't at a bar, being ogled by every man in the house. She was in a bookstore, her hair pulled up in a bun and wearing jeans and an old sweatshirt. It didn't fit.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you came here, I was just looking for a book and I..."

"Castle."

It was all she was able to say. His name, not even his first name, because she had done her best to forget she had ever been that close to him.

He took a step closer to her, walking towards the back end of the corridor, where she could hear Marco talking to another client. She didn't move, her limbs seemingly numb as he approached her and stopped about an arm away.

He looked different. He wasn't as tan as she had expected, but he was thinner. He looked more fit, but there was something missing from his eyes, from his expression. It was like the innocence, that child-like joy had been drained from him. At the same time, he had a few grey hairs in the front of his head, making him look more worldly. It seemed like he had finally grown up, and without knowing why, that stung Kate.

She looked different in his eyes too. She was thinner, if it was possible; her dark jeans and green shirt made her look younger, but at the same time the dark circles under her eyes told him that she wasn't alright.

"You look good." Castle whispered, and she felt the heat of his stare on her body. She hated how he still had the power to do that to her.

"Thank you." It was all she was able to say.

Kate Beckett didn't move, and neither did Richard Castle. They stood there, taking each other in, until Marco came by and stared at them for a moment, stepping innocently between the two.

"May I help you with something?"

That seemed to pull them both out of their stupor. Castle looked at the man quickly and seemed to regain his composure, smiling charmingly.

"Yes, sir, I was looking for an antique edition of Mrs. Dalloway. I was told by a collector that I could find it here."

Kate reached the ground slowly, picking up the book she had let slip from her hands at the sight of him, she kept quiet as the two men talked.

"Oh, yes, I have it around here somewhere. It's a very special book."

"Yes, it's a gift for someone."

The words remained in the air long after he said them, and Kate looked away, silently trying to find an escape route. He was buying Mrs. Dalloway for someone, her favorite book. You didn't offer someone an antique book unless that person was very important to you, right? Her mind conjured up a thousand scenarios, of him being with women from here and there, of him finally being truly commited to one of them. In the way he hadn't been able to commit to her.

At last, Kate turned to face him, handing him the book. He seemed surprised that she was able to find it, and she refrained from telling him she had been the one holding it.

"Here." she said, turning around.

"Thank you." he said, earnestly. His suddenly regained composure had brought on a sense of unfamiliarity. It was like they had never seen each other before, and it tore Kate's heart apart. "It was good to see you."

She didn't respond, just looked away as Castle walked through the corridor and looked back briefly. Their eyes met again for a second, and she saw the shadow of a smile, of that boyish grin that he saved only for her. He turned around and walked to the counter, where Gia greeted him warmly, but Marco stayed by her side, his hand sitting firmly on her shoulder.

When Castle made his way out the door, without another look, she released the breath she hadn't realised she was holding.

"Who was that?" Marco asked, his eyes still trained on the door.

"That was the guy who broke my heart."

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><p><em>Let me know what you think about this chapter! The more I know about what you guys like, the more I can work toward it. <em>


	2. Two

_Author's Note:_

_I am in awe of the reception this story got. When I wrote it, knowing how dark it would be, I didn't think many people would go for it, but you guys proved me wrong! I am so very glad you are enjoying the story! I tried to reply to all the reviews — I hope I didn't miss anyone, and in case I did, my big 'thank you' note goes out now._

_Here's the second installment! I hope you like it. Again, many thanks to **Caffeine-Faerie** for doing the beta-work._

_And again, thank you SO much for your support. None of this would be worthy without it._

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><p><strong>Redemption <strong>

* * *

><p>II.<p>

Kate Beckett made her way into the precinct swiftly, trying her best not to be seen as she made her way toward the elevator. It was her day off, and her new boss didn't like them to drop by unless they were requested, so she did her best to go unnoticed as she pressed the button for the morgue and tapped her foot lightly on the floor. The elevator doors closed and she relaxed, releasing the breath she was holding and leaning against the side of the lift. She didn't know how she made her way from the book store to the precinct. She was on autopilot as she nearly ran down the streets of Manhattan, needing to discuss the encounter with someone who knew her well enough, who knew_ him_ well enough. She hadn't even allowed herself to think about it; she wanted to hear Lanie's words, hear her analyze every second of what had happened. Without telling Lanie, it hadn't really happened, the encounter had been a figment of her imagination.

The elevator doors opened and Kate ran along the hallway and entered the autopsy room without a second thought; the sentence she was about to start died before it even reached her lips, as she saw a couple, about fifty years old crying over the body of a young woman, and Lanie standing in front of them with a compassionate expression. Kate couldn't see the body, but she could make out the strands of long, straight, red hair making its way from the table to the floor. The dead woman seemed to have impossibly long hair.

The faces of the two crushed people — Kate imagined they were the parents — and Lanie's turned to her in surprise, and she stopped in her tracks, her face losing its color.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The couple didn't even seem to hear her; the woman started to sob and the man tried his best to comfort her, while Lanie's eyes were still on Kate, who was exiting the room. There was something wrong.

Kate got out of the room and leaned against the wall, finally taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be hit with the memories of the short encounter, finally feeling the tension in her body. She couldn't help but to run to the other autopsy room and lean over the trash can, feeling the hot chocolate and the biscuits she'd had earlier that day leave her stomach. Before she could regain her composure, she felt Lanie's hand on her back, and her voice speaking in a soft, reassuring tone. She was extending her a glass of water, which Kate took and sipped carefully as she let herself slide down the nearest wall into a crumpled heap on the floor. She watched as Lanie got up and locked the door to the room and then came back, sitting on the floor next to Kate.

It felt like it was happening all over again, like she was losing him once more, watching him leave the party without saying goodbye, hoping he'd call, praying he'd come back. It was the same kind of pain, hitting her again, the cold in the pit of her stomach, the actual, physical pain. She had marveled at the fact that he was capable of making her hurt so much, but now it was just horrible.

"Honey, is it your dad?" Lanie had kept silent for a few minutes, but Kate could tell that curiosity was getting the better of her. There was concern etched all over her face, along with something that the other woman identified as the neverending patience Lanie had for her. The Detective could be infuriatingly dense when it came to her feelings, and her best friend had never let her down.

"I saw him." It was all she could say. She wasn't crying, oh no. She wanted to, but she was still able to keep the tears in. She was shaking, though, and her face was so white it was frightening. She could see her reflection on the metal of the autopsy table and it wasn't pretty.

"Who?" Lanie asked. She smiled and kneeled near Kate, taking the other woman's hands in hers. "Your dad? Is everything alright with him? Because I spoke to Doctor Andrews a couple of days ago and he told me..."

"Castle" Kate spoke in a small voice that Lanie had honestly missed it. A look of disbelief filled her eyes, as if asking her best friend to repeat what she had just said. Beckett swallowed hard before saying in an audible voice "Castle".

Lanie's slack jaw was proof of her surprise, and her hands gripped Kate's tighter. "Oh honey," she whispered, and Kate finally allowed the tears to start spilling.

She finally cried. She felt the warm tears running down her cheeks, down her neck and into the collar of her shirt, and took them as a proof of life, a proof that what was happening was real, it wasn't her brain playing tricks on her. What had happened at the book store was the most common of all the New York encounters; the former lovers who meet and greet each other awkwardly. But it was so much more than that, wasn't it?

Castle was more than a former lover, and his departure had been the beginning of the end for her. It had started a series of events which would have been able to destroy the strongest of minds, and to add to the pain she didn't have her main source of support — him. Kate wasn't one to break down over a man; she had seen too much horror, too much pain before, but these were the tears she hadn't cried when everything else had happened. She had withstood her father's cancer with a stoic face and very few tears. The attack was something else, but she still didn't want to think about it. It was too fresh, too painful; only six months had passed and she had been postponing the psych consults she had been advised to take by the NYPD, simply because she wasn't ready to face it.

Lanie's voice grabbed Kate from her thoughts. Her best friend's fingers were soft and tender as they wiped the tears from her face, whispering soothing nonsenses. "Hey sweetie." She whispered, when Kate finally opened her eyes. "You ready to talk?"

Beckett nodded and sat with her back straight against the wall. She wiped the rest of the tears with the back of her hands and sighed, a defeated look taking over her features and breaking her best-friend's heart.

"I was at the book store and he showed up. He was looking for an antique version of Mrs. Dalloway." Kate let out a sob, remembering the smell of the old book in that fraction of a moment before she heard his voice. How the world had been, not happy, but peaceful before she heard his surprised 'Oh'. "I was holding it in my hands."

"Oh, fuck."

"He saw me, he said I looked good. I could barely talk, Lanie, I couldn't believe he was right in front of me. So at first Marco helped him look and he said..." Beckett took a deep breath, finally able to pause her tears long enough for the words to come out. "That it was a present for someone. I just gave it to him and he walked away."

"Someone who?"

"I don't know. But you don't buy a two hundred dollar edition of a Virginia Woolf novel for someone you're only acquainted with." the anger that she had managed to keep at bay until now was finally taking over her senses, and Kate spoke through gritted teeth. "And it had to be that book. It had to be a book he knew to be one of my favorites."

"I know, sweetie." Lanie paused, looking away. "If I catch that son of a bitch around here, or around you again, I'll be sure to kick his ass."

"No need. I'll just shoot him." she sighed "This is ridiculous. I'm ridiculous." Lanie laughed softly, but Kate knew that there was a question lingering in the air.

"I'm worried." she whispered, and Kate lowered her head to her hands, taking a deep breath. She knew exactly what was coming. "Even after all this time, he still managed to leave you like that."

"I know" Kate whispered.

"And there's something else you need to talk about."

"No." Kate's voice left no space for discussion, but the ME was more stubborn than that.

"Yes." Lanie's face changed into something darker, more forceful. "I was there, Kate. I was the first one to walk into that room and to see what he'd done to you. I was the one who examined you, and I still have nightmares. You need to talk to someone, Kate, or it's going to eat you alive."

"I can deal, Lanie. I've been dealing." she placed both her hands on the cold floor, forcing herself to her feet. Lanie accompanied the movement, making the height difference more obvious now. "What I need is for people to stop talking to me about it."

Lanie sighed and motioned towards the door, unlocking it. She knew when Kate's share time was over, and she knew that this one was through. "That's what they call denial, honey."

Kate looked away and moved to exit the room behind Lanie. As she made her way to the elevator, the medical examiner stood, watching her friend leave. Just before the doors closed, the detective smiled softly.

"Thanks, Lanie."

"Anytime, Kate."

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><p>Alexis jumped when the door slammed behind her, making her hold the cup she had in her hands more steadily. Silently, she watched as her father made his way into the foyer and placed an elegantly wrapped present on the table, taking off his coat and placing it in the holder. She could tell he was nervous by the way his sleeve had gotten stuck and how he'd wrestled it like it was a creature from another world. Alexis would have been amused if she wasn't concerned.<p>

Castle made his way into the living room area and his eyes finally met his daughter's, making her even more concerned; he looked strangely distracted, almost ditzy. Despite her father's flair for the dramatic, she had never seen his eyes look so restless. It was enough for her to get off the couch and place her tea on the table, keeping both her hands free in case she'd need to hug him.

"What's wrong, dad?" she asked, and he tried to smile, failing miserably.

"What? Why would anything be wrong?" he responded with his own question, prompting the teenager to stand with both hands on her hips and look at him knowingly.

"You look like you've seen a ghost. You just wrestled your own coat and your eyes are blinking twice as usual, so you're nervous. Oh, and your hand is twitching." Castle stopped his right hand with his left one as soon as his daughter's words came out of her mouth, but the red head was smiling knowingly now. "Something happened. What was it?"

He sighed. He couldn't really lie to Alexis, but he had wanted to avoid the Beckett topic with her. For a very long time, the girl had felt guilty over the break up, knowing her father had moved across the country because of her. He didn't see it that way; he saw it as his own mistake, not being able to handle things properly. He knew they could have stayed together if he had played his cards right; he knew he should have told her and consulted her over the move. But he had been too scared, and it had been easier to do everything without her knowledge. The break up, however, had been much harder than he had thought.

Moving to the couch, Castle sat down and allowed his head to fall back, closing his eyes and pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. He felt Alexis sitting next to him and her small hand on her arm, pulling it down so she could look at his face.

"Dad, tell me what's wrong."

"I saw her." Alexis leaned back, surprised. It couldn't be.

"You mean Detective Beckett?" she asked carefully, and Alexis held her breath until his eyes met hers and he grinned.

"Yeah." he paused "She looks good."

The teenager rolled her eyes. "Did you talk to her?"

He nodded "Yeeees". It sounded more like a whine than actual words, and Alexis rolled her eyes.

"What. Did. You. Do?"

"I might have implied that I was buying a present for someone special." Castle said as he leaned forward and let his head fall into his hands. "I was an ass, Lex."

Alexis was silent. She didn't really know what to say to make her father feel better, because despite the fact that she loved him more than anything, she wanted to smack him.

She knew how hard it had been for Detective Beckett to let go and finally give into the feelings she had for the writer. She knew Beckett had been crushed, much like her father had been, but she knew it had been all that worse for Kate, as she was left alone and Castle had her, his daughter, to lean on.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, save for Castle's occasional moans and whispers of "I was so stupid" and "damn". It took Alexis that time to think about what he had said, and she didn't think she had the facts straight.

"Let me see if I got this. You saw Detective Beckett and implied you were buying something for someone special. And you neglected to mention that the special person was Gram?"

Castle nodded, his expression close to that of a child who had just been smacked by his mother. His daughter sighed and sat in front of him on the table.

"Dad, you know how I feel about this..."

"Alexis, I told you, it's not your fault, it's the way things..."

"Shut up and listen for a second, would you?" Castle was surprised by her forcefulness, but closed his mouth and allowed the teenager's blue eyes connect with his. "You moved across the country because of me, and I'm so very grateful, but you messed up when you did and you know that. You haven't written the novel you were supposed to write, you haven't done anything productive, save for those two short stories that you didn't even sign, so don't give me crap. You need to work this out, and you need to at least make peace with Detective Beckett so that you can move on with your life. I don't like it, but I can accept your premise that it was just not meant to happen. But either way, you have to talk it out and be done with the matter."

"I know." he said, and allowed his head to hang forward, prompting Alexis to fluff his hair.

"You'll be okay, Dad. You always are." she said, her voice soft and almost childlike.

"Yeah."

"Now, go get ready for Gram's birthday dinner, or I'll be the one driving while you work on your tie." she said, faking a stern speech as she got on her feet and walked up the stairs.

Castle allowed his head to fall back again onto the couch, and he sighed heavily.

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><p><em>Thank you so much for reading! If you're in the mood to make someone smile, drop me a word and tell me what you think about this chapter!<em>


	3. Three

_Author's Note:_

_So how about that for a finale? I tell you, guys, I'm still reeling from watching it live with the net crowd, crying my eyes off, screaming like the fangirl that I am, the works. It was such a fantastic episode. It was beautiful to watch, really._

_I'm going to Dublin for the final of the Europa League tomorrow (soccer fans, anyone with me?), so I wanted to leave this here before I go. I had scheduled things in order to post on Wednesdays and Saturdays, but this way you get a chapter earlier. :)_

_I hope you like this chapter. It's very dear to me, so I really hope it pleases you as well. And don't forget the fact that reviews are like fuel to me. They make me go on, so talk to me! I'll do my best to reply to all of you!_

_Thanks to the lovely K for going over the english for me. She's such a sweetheart._

* * *

><p><strong>Redemption <strong>

* * *

><p>III.<p>

A few days passed since her encounter with Castle and Kate was feeling like herself again. The truth was, she had been able to calm herself down that night by combining tequila shots and watching Steel Magnolias with Lanie and, despite the hangover the next day, she actually felt much better. So what if Castle was back in town? They were in Manhattan — home to millions of people — the chances of them meeting again in the near future were very slim.

So Kate allowed herself to fall back into her work routine, solving cases — and taking longer than she did before, but she wasn't really willing to admit it — trying to hate her new boss and making small talk with Ryan and Esposito. The problem was, a week had passed and she had a day off again. Not knowing what do to with herself, the detective made her way to the old book store where she knew she would find solace in her books and the small demonstrations of affection from the people she had started to think of as family, as a sort of honorary grandaughter.

Winter had hit Manhattan early and in full force, bringing along snow that was piling quickly into drifts. She put on a coat and a scarf, hat and gloves and made her way to the streets, marveling at how snowflakes had flitted and swirled across the sky. She had always had the ability to look at the details, to focus on the tiniest aspects of life. Being with Castle had only enhanced thatskill. His attention to detail was remarkable, and they often competed to see who got to a certain train of thought first, by looking at the details and making conclusions. They usually ended up tied, Kate remembered with a smile she soon erased from her face. No. She wasn't allowed to smile about him. Not yet.

Kate saw the turquoise front of the book store and her eyes fell on the name that was painted in the window glass. The name of the store, _Alla Luce_ — which she knew could be loosely translated to 'in the light' — was missing its last character. Kate could see a familiar face approaching the empty space with a brush on his hand. She entered the store and smiled at the man who was painting the glass.

"Hey Michael," she said softly. He turned to her, smiling.

"Kate! You're here," he said, nearly dropping the brush. Michael Bellotti was a good looking man in his early thirties, and had an enormous crush on Kate. She'd known that since the first few times she'd been there but had never done anything to encourage it. She couldn't say she wasn't flattered — having a gorgeous italian man flailing over her presence wasn't exactly painful — but she knew her heart wasn't in a place where she could give him a chance just yet.

"Yeah, I need a couple of new things. And I need to talk to your grandfather," she explained. Marco showed up behind the counter.

"_Caterina_! How are you doing?" He walked around the wooden surface and grabbed Kate's arm, pulling her into the living room and leading her to the couch. "Wait here, I just made tea."

Not a minute after that he was by her side, a tray with tea and cookies on the table and a warm smile on his face. "Now spill, what did you want to tell me ? I heard you tell Michaelo you wanted to talk to me."

"Yeah," Kate said and took a sip of her drink, cradling the warm tea cup between her hands. They were freezing, even though she'd been wearing gloves, and the warmth of the porcelain was more than comforting. "I sort of wanted to explain what happened the other day. I left in a hurry and I feel bad about it."

She had left as quickly as she could. She had picked up her coat and scarf faster than lightening and left the store without saying another word to Marco, who was left, stunned, in the corridor. She knew she had needed to escape, to find the fastest way to Lanie she could possibly take, but she was aware that she had been rude.

"It's okay. I saw the man, I saw how you looked at him."

"Yeah, it's a complicated story, you know?" Marco smiled encouragingly, and the Detective took a breath before she started to talk. "I hadn't seen him in about a year and half . He left and I was here and I didn't deal well."

"Is he back now?"

"I have no idea. All we said was what you heard. I have no idea if he's back for good, or on vacation, or whatever it is he was doing here." It took Kate a moment to be able to speak again, and she took a few seconds by sipping her tea. The taste was pungent, not sweet at all, just the way she liked it, and she could feel the warm liquid make its way down to her stomach. "It's very complicated," she whispered, looking down at her entwined hands.

When Marco didn't reply right away, Kate lifted her eyes to him, only to realize that he was looking at the doorway. She couldn't see it from the place she was sitting, but she heard the soft ding of the bell above it, indicating that someone had entered.

Marco turned to her again, his expression lying somewhere between amusement and concern. "It's about to either get more complicated or to be solved altogether, bella." he whispered, and she saw the silhouette of the man she knew so well against the bright light of the store. Marco got up from his seat and moved toward him, patting him softly on the shoulder.

"You two should talk."

* * *

><p>Castle threw the rubber ball against the wall and caught it for the hundredth time in a few minutes, sighing. He felt like he was slowly but steadily losing his mind over the encounter he'd had with Beckett the week before.<p>

He felt guilty. He'd felt guilty before, when he'd left, but it wasn't comparable to the amount of self-loathing he felt now for having implied that he was buying one of her favorite books for a significant other. Hell, he knew she loved Virgina Woolf and he knew that her favorite from the English writer was Mrs. Dalloway. Why had he gone through with it? He could have said something like 'my mother loves this book,' or 'it's my mother's favorite,' but no. He had to let the wounded little seventeen-year-old inside of his chest get the best of him and tease her. And now he was feeling horrible.

He'd talked it out with Alexis more than once, and every time the teenager had insisted that her father try to talk to Kate so that he could at least make an effort to move on with his life. She was right. She knew he hadn't been able to write for a year or so. When he'd moved across the country, he'd written two short stories about love and loss, but they had fallen so far out of his usual realm of writing that, even though The New Yorker had been more than willing to publish them, he felt compelled to use a pseudonym. So he did, and that was the last time his fingers had run swiftly over the keyboard of his computer. Well, that and to write e-mails, but that didn't really count, did it?

It had been a week before, to the day. It was Wednesday again and something came to his mind. Maybe she was there again. Maybe she went there on Wednesdays, maybe it was her thing. It was worth a try and even if she wasn't at the pictoresque book store, he could always try to find another antique book as an excuse. Maybe he'd even be able to distract himself.

It was with a full heart that Castle put on his coat and his gloves and got out of his apartment. He hailed a cab and before he could think too much he was standing in a crowded street in the Village in front of the turquoise door to the store. He peeked inside and didn't see her in the hallway where he'd found her the last time. A little taken aback, he forced himself to go inside, and as he opened the door he saw the old man he'd found her with the last time. He was making his way to ask him about Beckett when he saw her, sitting on the couch.

She was a glorious sight. Leaning against the back of a couch with a cup of what smelled like tea in her hands, caressing it gently but absentmindedly, as she spoke a couple of soft words to the man in front of her. He wasn't paying attention to her; his eyes were on Castle, and he winked at him as he patted her knee and whispered something to her. The old man got up and walked toward Castle, patting his shoulder in the same gentle way he had patted Kate's knee.

"You two should talk," he said, and left to stand behind the counter with a book of his own.

* * *

><p>Kate's mind was faster this time, and she managed to place her tea cup on the tray before she got up, straightening the front of her pants with the palms of her hands. Castle recognized the nervous gesture and took a step forward, standing at arm's length from her.<p>

She seemed to have herself under control this time, and she was glad. He wasn't going to see her crumble, she wouldn't allow it, so she filled the empty cup and served him some tea. The silence between them was becoming unbearable, but she knew she could withstand the pressure for much longer than he could. She took her time giving him the cup, somehow steadying her hands, and picked up her own cup as she turned to look at him and sat on the couch again.

"Thank you" he murmured, and she nodded. He sighed, taking a sip and making a face at how bitter the tea was. "Okay, this is... strange." he said. She knew he wasn't talking about the tea. He placed the cup and the plate on the table and turned to her, but she was the one to speak first.

"So, did your _someone_ like the book?" she asked, and Castle wanted to beat himself over the head with a baseball bat. He could hear the pain that was stored underneath her words, and he hated himself for provoking that kind of suffering.

"That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What? She didn't like it?" she insisted, and he knew she was torturing him. She'd realized he felt bad and wanted to let him know how much it had hurt her, so he decided to turn the game on her.

"My mother? She loved it." He watched as a tint of pink made its way up to Beckett's cheeks, and she looked down at her hands.

"Oh."

"Yeah." He took her silence as an opportunity to speak, and didn't leave any space for her to interrupt. "I know that you probably thought otherwise, and that's my fault. I should have never said it like that. That's why I came here today. I wanted to apologize for making you think I was seeing someone when in reality, the book was for my mother's birthday."

Kate was silent for a moment, processing what he had just said.

"When did you get back?" she asked in a small voice, and he felt like he was being interrogated in a soft, guilt-inducing way.

"Alexis transfered to NYU in August. We came back in September." She seemed to take the new information in, and he didn't dare to speak. She was having one of her stern "Detective moments," and he didn't want to make it worse.

"So I guess you're here for good," she finally replied.

"Yes."

They didn't speak for a few minutes. Castle eyed Beckett intently, trying to figure out what she was thinking, but her face was tipped down and her hair acted as a curtain that prevented him from seeing her eyes. She was a puzzle to him, all the more after this time apart. Something had changed in her, something was different. She seemed more cautious, as if she had been burned. Badly burned. The thought that something could have happened to her, that she could have been involved with someone else and gotten her heart broken made his stomach sink.

"You haven't written in a while," she said, dragging him away from his thoughts. Her eyes rose up to meet his, but it was his time to lower his head and hide his expression.

"Yeah."

"Why not?" she insisted, and he smiled bitterly.

"It didn't seem right." He wanted to say he missed her too much, that he had been unable to write properly without her, but he bit his tongue and kept silent. He knew that wasn't the moment, and most of all, he knew he didn't have the right to say something like that. He'd been the one to leave, after all.

"It's a shame." she whispered, and took a sip of her tea. "A lot has changed since you left."

He could see that. It was painfully obvious. "I can imagine."

"And you can't really waltz back into my life and pretend everything's fine, you know?" She sighed and looked at the fire crackling beside her. "I appreciate the apology, I do. And I miss your words. I hope you manage to write soon, now that you're back home."

"I didn't want you to be mad at me," he said in the most earnest of tones, and it broke her heart.

"I'm not. Honestly." She smiled at his words, and even though he knew it was that impenetrable smile she used with people she wanted to keep a distance from, he had a crazy idea. It was beyond crazy, really. But it made his heart light up in a way it hadn't been able to, ever since he'd moved to California. It was what he needed, what he craved.

"Let me shadow you again," he suggested.

Beckett's eyes widened at his request. "What? No. No way."

"Please," he half-whined, "just for a little while. Just to see if I can get my writing back on track, and I promise I'll let you go."

Kate rolled her eyes, pinching the bridge of her noise with a sigh. "What did I just say to you? You can't come and go as you please. And besides, I have a new boss, Castle. Things aren't as simple as you think."

"So I'll call the Mayor. I'll talk to your boss, I'll convince him..."

"Her."

"Her? Even better, I'll convince her to let me do this, Please." he pleaded, his face lighting up. Maybe things would work out, maybe there was a way for him to go back to what he used to be.

Kate weighed her options. Her mind was splitting in two as a part of her wanted to take him back and the best part of her told her heart that she had been burned once, she'd be burned a second time. She couldn't allow it. What she could do, however, was to let her new boss handle the tough part and tell Castle he wasn't allowed in the precinct. With the rigid state of things at the 12th, she doubted he'd ever be allowed there.

"Tell you what, Castle. You show up tomorrow, we'll talk to Henderson. But." she said sternly, before he could smile, "I'm through. I'm not going back to being with you, not like before."

His heart fell to his feet, but he managed to keep his smile. He knew that it would take time for her to trust him again, but he was willing to wait. He was willing to work until he got to see that smile he'd seen so many times.

"Whatever you say. I just want to get my groove back." Realizing what he'd said, he blushed "Writing-wise, I mean."

Kate's phone chose that precise second to ring, freeing him from the embarrassment. She spoke quietly into the device and as soon as the call ended got up to her feet and picked up her coat, walking past Castle and nodding softly. She prepared herself to go out in the cold and stopped at the counter to greet Gia, who was reading quietly. She kissed the old woman's face softly.

"Ciao, _bella_," Gia whispered, and was stunned by the smile that illuminated Kate's face as she left the store. The Italian woman's heart soared with joy when she looked at the man she'd left behind and saw the exact same luminous smile plastered on his features.

* * *

><p>Kate used her key to enter her father's apartment, only to find him in the kitchen baking. Jim Beckett had always liked to spend time cooking and baking, and ever since he'd stopped working because of the cancer he'd started to take even more pleasure in it, inventing complex recipes and multiple layer cakes that Kate devoured with pleasure. Or she used to, until the attack. After that, she was never really able to eat like before.<p>

She leaned against the entrance of the kitchen for a while, still unnoticed while her father hummed a melody and stirred the batter for a cake. It was good to see him now; he still hadn't regained all of the weight he'd lost, but he was getting there. His cheeks had color again, and even though he walked around with his inhaler every once in a while, he was nearly confirmed to be in full remission by the panel of doctors who treated him. It would just take another MRI, Kate thought, and smiled to herself. Jim chose that moment to turn around and his face split in a smile that could light up the room.

"Hey honey!" he greeted, leaning into her and kissing Kate's cheek "I didn't hear you come in."

"I sneaked in so I could see you dance around while you baked," she laughed, and he looked at her with a serious experession. Kate ignored it, like she had since she was a teenager and he had these silent moments when it would seem like he was reading her. "What are you making?"

"Just some good old lemon cake." Jim turned to the counter again and poured the batter in the pan, extending the arm with the empty bowl to Kate so that she'd eat the rest of the batter. She smiled and licked the spoon first, as he placed the pan carefully in the oven and turned to her, taking off the black apron he wore over his checkered shirt. Kate took the bowl to the table and got another spoon from the drawer, offering it to her father, who sat down across from her.

They ate in silence for a couple of minutes, until Jim stopped and looked at his daughter again carefully.

"You're smiling," he stated, and as if on request, she smiled again. Kate tried to avoid it, but she couldn't. She was just in a good mood. "You're eating batter. Actually eating it, I mean, not pretending you do and then cleaning up the bowl so I can pretend that I don't see."

Kate blushed, opening her mouth to defend herself, but her father laughed softly.

"I know you, Katie. And I'm so happy to see you smile again." he said simply, and started to eat again.

Kate knew she should be as happy about the bad things as she was about the good ones; her mother used to say that the bad things were the ones that gave us an opportunity to learn, and she was just now admitting that it could be true. Her father's disease had brought them closer than they'd been before; she'd been with him during every course of chemotherapy, through the two surgeries that had extracted forty percent of his right lung, through every respiratory crisis. They had talked like two friends and it had, in the end, made them much stronger. At the same time, it also made Kate that much more afraid to lose him.

"I saw him."

Jim's eyes rose from the bowl and met his daughter's, wondering if she meant what he thought she meant. "The writer?"

"Yeah." she said, licking off the last of the batter from her spoon. "He found me, actually, at the book store. Said he wants to shadow me again."

"What did you say?" her father asked carefully. She shrugged.

"I said he could ask Henderson, but I know she'll say no," she replied. Jim smiled playfully.

"But you're smiling." he remarked, lowering his eyes again.

"No, I'm not," she protested

"Sure."

"I'm not," she insisted, and when her father started to laugh, she threw the kitchen cloth at his face.

* * *

><p><em>I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews make me happy, and being happy makes me want to write. See the connection? ;)<em>


	4. Four

_Author's Note: _

_I'm so sorry it took me so long to post this chapter. Between the trip to Dublin (it was EPIC!), an exhibit I'm preparing and a couple of commissions, I've been awfully busy. I do hope to post more regularly now. I should update again by the end of the week, Thursday of Friday._

_I'm a photographer; that's what I do for a living, so my mind works mostly in images. It's hard for me to write a character when I don't have a physical image of that character, which is why I love fan fiction — and why, every time I write original fiction, I have to find a picture that resembles every character. Why am I telling you all this? Because of course, I have someone who plays the new Captain, in my mind, and that someone is Kelli Williams. I only saw her a couple of times on 'Lie to Me', but I thought she'd be perfect for the part. So there, you have the same imagery I do when I write her._

_I also feel like I should warn you about this chapter, since it contains a pretty violent scene right in the beginning. I couldn't have avoided it, it was really necessary to the story, and so many of you asked what happened to Beckett, what broke her, so... here it is._

_Thank you so much to all of you who reviewed my last chapter. I was unable to reply to each and every one of you, but I'll do my best to get back on track with that this time. But please know that it means the world to me that you take the time to say something. It's what keeps me going._

_Oh, a little bit of shameless publicity, do you mind? Like I said, I'm a photographer, so if you're into that sort of thing, you can check out my flickr! The link's on my profile! :)_

_Big thanks to K for proof-reading this for me. She's so amazing. :)_

* * *

><p><strong>IV<strong>

* * *

><p>The first thing she felt was the inability to move. Her arms were pinned above her head and there was weight on her, a figure so heavy that she could barely move her legs. Kate tried to open her eyes, but she realized she couldn't; her lids were heavy, not obeying her orders like she wanted them to. That was when she felt it. It took her a second to register that a wet trail was making its way from her nose to the side of her face, and the pain she felt for a moment told her that this wasn't what she thought, it wasn't a dream, she had someone on top of her and that someone was making her bleed. When she tried to fight it, however, she realized that she was paralyzed — her body wasn't responding to her commands at all.<p>

A sense of panic invaded her as she saw the images of him, of the man who had been killing all those women lying on top of her, touching her most intimate places. She couldn't fight it, she couldn't smack him or bite him or even scratch him in order to gather some DNA. She just had to let it pass. And then the blows came. He wasn't interested in sexually teasing her anymore — he'd started to punch her. He punched her once in the face, snapping it to the side, then a couple of times on her ribs.

Kate realized that, strangely, pain had a color. When he'd hit her face she'd seen orange, a blinding shade that had invaded her brain right until the fists had encountered her ribcage. Then she started to see blue, turquoise and ultramarine flashes in front of her eyes. She heard the voices, and the sound of her front door closing.

The man stopped suddenly and she felt his weight lift from her body. She felt a cold rush of air as the window opened, and she heard Lanie's voice.

"Oh, God!"

Kate sat up on the bed, her skin covered by a layer of sweat. She was shaking, the memory of the pain invading her senses and convincing her body she was going through it again. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and she brought a hand up to her lips, realizing she'd bit her lip with enough force to split it open in the middle. Shit, she'd have a mark in the morning.

The Detective forced herself to take deep breaths and calm down, rubbing her face with her hands then moving them up to knot her hair into a messy pony tail. A glance at the clock on her nightstand told her it was five thirty a.m, She threw her legs to the side of the bed and leaned against her arms, breathing evenly again. She was still unsteady. These nightmares had a sense of realness to them, of pain like she had never experienced — and she'd had her fair share of bad dreams concerning the death of her mother. Still, Kate forced herself to get up and move to the bathroom, taking off her sweat-soaked pajamas and stepping into the shower.

Half an hour later she was sitting at her kitchen table with a tall coffee mug and a newspaper, blindly going through the pages. A part of her was still reliving the pain and the feeling of his weight on top of her. She could remember every detail of that night, every slap and punch, every rough touch of his fingers in her inner thighs, his smell. He wore the same cologne as one of her high school boyfriends had worn and somehow, running in to that ex-boyfriend on the street a couple of weeks ago had given her a sudden urge to vomit. She remembered Lanie's voice, her soothing fingers on her face as the ME tried to examine her through the tears. In all those years of friendship she'd never seen Lanie try to avoid the tears and fail. When Lanie leaned her head against Kate's side and sobbed, Kate fought her own tears.

It had taken Lanie a few moments to regain her composure. When Esposito, who had followed the man down the stairs, made his way back, she was all business again. Her friend hadn't left Kate's side for a second in the days that had followed the attack, and Kate was immensely grateful.

Kate drove to the precinct and, as usual, got there before everyone else. The room was still empty and she knew that dispatch was still sending the cases over to the people in the night shift, so she sat at her desk and looked at the empty chair that had become a permanent fixture in her horizon. She hadn't allowed them to take Castle's chair from beside her table — that would have been a victory for him, giving him that kind of importance, that status. So she had kept it, shrugging it off as being everyone's chair, but no one ever dared sit there.

"Morning, Beckett." The female voice came from behind her, and Kate turned to look at her Captain, Julia Henderson, now entering the station. She wore her usual sharply tailored suit that made her look invincible.

When Captain Henderson had been assigned to the 12th Precinct following the death of Captain Roy Montgomery, everyone expected war to break out between her and Beckett. Maybe it was because they were both gorgeous, powerful women, and no one expected them to get along. They had been right at first, there had been some tension. But Beckett knew better than to infuriate her boss. In fact, after Castle had left and her willingness to go rogue had diminished, she thought she should just let the Captain be. It had been somewhat like the arrival of FBI Agent Jordan Shaw: a certain amount of competition that had ended in mutual admiration.

Then the Sallinger case had come along and Henderson had been stubborn enough to forbid everyone from calling in the FBI. She had been confident that they could handle the situation themselves. The result had been disastrous: they had ended up calling Jordan a few days later and by the time she'd arrived, Peter Sallinger had already turned Kate into his next target. From that point until the time of the attack on Kate, not even a week went by, a week during which a palpable tension had established between the Captain and the Detective, and a new, peculiar friendship had been started between Kate and the FBI agent.

"Morning, Captain," Kate replied as she heard the sharp clicking of the other woman's heels pass by her desk. She raised her her eyes to give her superior a polite smile. As the Captain moved to her office, Kate's eyes focused on the two figures approaching her desk and smiled. "Morning, boys."

"Mornin'," Ryan and Esposito said in unison. A look passed between them, their expressions slightly disturbed.

"You two are weird," she said with a smile and lowered her eyes to the report she was writing while Esposito sat down at his desk, taking off his coat. Ryan, however, was still standing in front of her and Beckett's eyes rose again to meet the those of the man in front of her. "What?"

Ryan smiled, his dimples showing as he put his hands in the pockets of his pants. "You're smiling," he observed.

Kate tried to maintain a straight face but her features betrayed her. Despite the awful way she had woken up — and to which she was accustomed, after all — she was in a good mood. She had been since the afternoon before, when she'd met her father at his place.

"I'm not, Ryan."

"Yes, you are." Ryan whistled at Esposito, who brought his eyes up to Beckett. "Hey Esposito. Isn't she smiling?"

The second detective rose from his chair and came to stand next to his partner, both of them now posing in a strange symmetry in front of Kate's desk. Esposito cocked his head to the side with an amused expression. "You are smiling," he stated. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing!" she replied, exasperated. "Can't anyone be in a good mood around here?"

Ryan and Esposito didn't seem to hear her. Instead, the two of them pulled chairs and sat in front of her desk, sharing knowing looks.

"Dude, you think she..." Esposito started, and Ryan smiled knowingly.

"Yeah, I think she might have..."

"Nah, she'd tell us, right?"

"Well, you know Beckett, she's plays it close..."

"Guys," she tried to interrupt the conversation, but they weren't giving her a chance. "Guys!" she insisted, her voice climbing up a few decibels.

The two detectives turned to her.

"So, did you?" Ryan asked.

"Did I what?" Kate was becoming increasingly annoyed. She was usually amused by the boys, but this time they were getting on her nerves. "Did I what, Ryan?"

"See him," he replied.

Her stomach dropped. Were they talking about Castle? "Who are you talking about?"

"Come on, Beckett" Esposito half-whined, and it reminded her of the man they were all talking about. "Castle."

Her mouth opened a couple of times but no sound came out. It took her a minute to be able to speak. "You guys knew he was back in town?" she asked, her voice small, and once again the two detectives shared a look. Only this time, it was a look of concern.

"Yeah, I mean," Ryan tried. "It's not like we met him or anything. Jenny saw it in a magazine a couple of months ago, that he was moving back to New York. It had a blurb about him not being able to write, and we were sort of expecting him to call you up —"

"Just to see if he could follow you," Esposito completed. "You didn't know he was back?"

"No," she whispered. She felt betrayed, in an immature, juvenile way. They should have told her, they should have given her a heads up. But really how could they? She had been unsufferable ever since he'd left. Lanie had made a point of telling her that every once in a while. Everything that happened around her, from her father to Sallinger to the aftermath of the attack, didn't make them comfortable enough to talk to her about the writer. Kate chose not to act on her hurt feelings; the boys thought she knew and it was her own fault that she didn't. She'd been avoiding seeing news about him like they would kill her. "I did meet him at the bookstore yesterday, though."

The detectives' eyes lit up and both of them leaned forward, once again in a strange symmetry. "You did?"

"Yeah. He's supposed to be coming by today to ask Henderson if he can shadow me."

They leaned back again at the same time, and Kate smiled, amused.

"Man, he's screwed." Esposito whispered.

"Maybe not, gentlemen, maybe not," said a new voice.

Kate's head turned at the sound and she managed to keep her face straight at the sight of Castle walking out of the elevator.

She had dreamed of this and somehow the dreams where he came back were even more cruel than the ones where her mother died or where she revived the attack. Those were the ones that ended with her crying because the dream was over, not the other way around. Reality hit her hard and it wasn't pretty.

As Castle made his way across the station, Kate made her best effort not to smile. It was surreal. She didn't think she'd have him back there ever again, and even now he was only there for a little while. She was pretty sure Henderson would slap his ass back on the street in no more than ten minutes.

The boys laughed and walked toward Castle, shaking hands and sharing awkward guy hugs as Kate watched, amused. Castle was smiling, that charming expression that rarely left his face mixing with the complete happiness of being there. She knew him, and she knew him well. She knew that the only smile that wrinkled his eyes was the happy one, the truly content one. She had made him smile like that once or twice before.

While Castle and the two detectives seemed to catch up in the hallway, Beckett was hit by the memories she'd managed to keep at bay until now: the soft touch of his hand on her neck; his lips pressing against her pulse point; his scent. The small things that her brain had blocked out the minute he told her he was leaving were now making their way back to their senses, and she leaned against her desk for support. It was only then that she noticed him closer to her, staring at her intently.

His scent was intoxicating, she knew that much. But despite her overwhelmed senses, she managed to put on a straight face and stare back, a blank expression on her face.

"Hello, Detective Beckett," he whispered, and she looked away, her eyes focusing on the Captain's office. Henderson was on the phone.

"Hi, Castle." She motioned toward the office and he followed her look "Captain Henderson is on the phone, but as soon as she's done I can take you in there."

"Okay, thank you."

Kate turned around and sat down at her chair, her heart skipping a beat when he sat at the chair on the side of her desk. She felt what she could describe as an almost dèja vu, the feeling that she'd been there before coupled with the certainty that she was stuck in the present. Seeing him there, sitting in the chair he used to occupy, leaning into the desk as he used to, made her shiver. She knew the boys were feeling something similar, by the stricken looks on their faces.

It was their little moment, as if for a second the four of them relived what they called 'the good times,' even if only to themselves. For a short time, it felt like nothing had changed, like none of them had been damaged in those months apart.

The spell was broken by Beckett when she realized that the Captain was no longer on the phone. She rose quickly from her chair and motioned for Castle to follow her, which he did promptly. They walked to the door and she knocked, hearing Henderson's response before poking her head in.

"I have someone who wants to talk to you, Captain," Beckett explained. At Henderson's nod she stepped aside and allowed the writer into the room.

It was still strange to stand in that room without Roy Montgomery occupying it. It was exactly the same, save for the changes in picture frames and a couple of plants here and there. Kate felt Castle shiver behind her and had to fight her instinct to take his hand in hers.

"Captain Julia Henderson, this is Richard Castle," Beckett introduced.

Kate's heart sunk when she saw the Captain opening up her brightest smile for Castle. Behind her, he was smiling victoriously.

"Mr. Castle! I'm a huge fan!" she said, coming around her desk and shaking his hand. Beckett froze.

"I'm glad you enjoy my work, Captain. I must say I owe a great deal to this precinct for helping me out with everything they could." He smiled his most charming smile, and Kate felt her stomach turn. This was not happening. Henderson was supposed to be strict with him as well, she was supposed to kick him out. Not flail over him, no.

"I'm just glad the NYPD could be of service." They still hadn't let go of each other's hands and Kate wanted to vomit. As soon as they did, she stepped in front of the writer.

"Captain, Mr. Castle was wondering if he could shadow me again, but I think that considering the circumstances in which he left, it's not the most..."

"I'll cut in now and save your breath, Detective Beckett" Henderson interrupted, her voice stern like it usually was. "I got a call from the Mayor this morning and I have already agreed to allow Mr. Castle shadow you again. God knows the solve rate for the precinct has gone down, and it's partially due to what happened a few months back. But I'm sure the detectives would appreciate his insights as they have in the past." Kate felt Castle tensing up at the mention of the Sallinger case, however veiled. She knew there would be questions.

Beckett opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again as the Captain looked up from the papers she had been signing. "This matter is not up for discussion, Detective." She rose from her desk and smiled at the writer, extending her hand. "I'm sure you remember the way to HR to sign your waiver, and you can come back as soon as you'd like."

He took both her hands in his and, knowing it would push Beckett's buttons, kissed the back of the Captain's hands. It felt like old times, Castle teasing Beckett out of pure, childish need for attention. While he thought it would come across as endearing, the Detective thought it was unbearable.

Kate thought she could see a faint pink tint rise to her Captain's cheeks as she looked down, awkwardly making her way behind the desk again. She knew it would be useless to fight back. Henderson's mind was made up and nothing could make her change it. Kate had been in that position before and it hadn't been pretty.

With a blank expression, Beckett nodded and turned to leave the office, with Castle on her heels. "Thank you, Captain." The Detective said.

Ryan and Esposito were waiting anxiously outside the office, leaning against the Irishman's desk. Seeing Castle's broad smile, the two of them laughed and moved toward the writer, hugging him and feeding the birds amongst fits of laughter. Kate walked past the three of them and sat at her desk, placing her elbows on the wood and her chin on her crossed fingers. She had made sure her expression wasn't tense or aggressive, so it wouldn't raise questions, but she needed a couple of minutes to think.

She never would have pegged Henderson for a fan. She should have been smart enough to figure it out, but she hadn't seen that far and now Castle was back to shadowing her. She would have to keep her distance. That was pretty much all she could do, build up her own walls again in a way that would keep Castle and his wit, charm and loveliness away. She wouldn't give in again.

It hadn't been easy to see him go, and the whole precinct had taken notice of it before. It was something she regretted immensely, knowing that her job had been affected by the departure of the writer whose presence she had fought for so long. It was sort of an unspoken rule at the precinct which, coupled with the attack and the Sallinger case, had managed to isolate her from her colleagues, which she absolutely abhored.

Kate was so immersed in her own thoughts that she barely noticed his figure as he sat on his chair, eyeing her intently.

"Beckett," he whispered, dragging her out of her reverie. Her eyes took a minute to focus on the man sitting across her.

"What?"

"If it's really that bothersome to you, I can just..." He stopped, seemingly measuring what he was about to say. Kate was surprised; had Richard Castle grown a filter between his mind and his mouth in those months away? "I guess I could follow one of the guys. That way you wouldn't have to spend so much time with me and..."

She didn't know what took over her. Maybe it was her need for challenges in her life, or an undeniable attraction towards danger, but she spoke out and she barely recognized the words that came out of her mind.

"It's alright, Castle, you can follow me."

The writer smiled and Kate felt the old heat fill her body from heat to toe. She looked away, taking a deep breath and holding it as the phone rang. She picked it up. "Beckett."

A few seconds and a couple of scribbled notes afterwards, the detective got up from her chair, receiving an upward look from the writer. "Come on, Castle. We have a case."

Castle watched as Beckett made her way to the elevator, her hips swaying slightly. He was still in awe.

He suspected always would be.

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><p><em>Talk to me! Reviews are what keeps me going and improving, really, so share your thoughts!<em>


	5. Five

_Author's Note: _

_Like I promised, here's the new chapter. I hope you're pleased with it! I'm still not too sure about getting Lanie's voice right; I used to think she'd be one of the easiest characters, but I do have a bit of a hard time writing her. Let me know what you think about that._

_The next chapter should either come by the end of the weekend or early next week. And once again, thank you so much for your feedback. I do my best to reply to all of you; if you take a second of your time to write me, I want to do the same for you. So thank you to those of you who review, especially those who do it outside of an account — I can't reply directly to you, but I can tell you here that I appreciate it immensely._

_Once again, thanks to K for the beta reading. She's amazing._

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><p><strong>V.<strong>

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><p>It had been a couple of days, and Beckett was already exhausted. The case seemed to be going nowhere, being mad at Castle was more tiring than she had anticipated and she hadn't been able to sleep properly ever since he had been accepted back at the precinct. It felt like she had been hit by a truck; her back and neck were sore and her eyes stung. She pushed her thumbs into her eyeballs in vain attempt to wake herself up, but it seemed to fail — just like everything else had that day.<p>

She had been alone at the precinct for a couple of hours. It was 7am now, and she'd been there since around five, when she'd grown tired of turning in bed without sleep ever making its way into her consciousness. Maybe going to work would help, maybe looking at the murder board a couple more times would shed some light on a homicide that seemed to be as obvious as it was hard to build.

The victim was a male, Vincent Pratt, around thirty, who had shown up strangled in his apartment. He worked as a chef in a high profile restaurant and the girlfriend had been the primary suspect, but she had an alibi as solid as granite; his parents had been out of town and he didn't have any enemies or people he might have wronged. Beckett had found out, however, that he was seeing a girl on the side, a colleague, and she was pretty sure that this other girl was the killer. The problem was, while she had a flimsy alibi, there was absolutely nothing that could tie her to the murder — no evidence, no proof that she'd even been at his apartment. Kate was almost sure that this girl, Jessica Blaine, had done it; still, she wasn't able to build a case against the sous-chef and it was driving her insane.

Kate stood against her desk as her eyes ran through the murder board again. This was going to be a hard case to build, but she'd find a way. She always did.

Having Castle around hadn't been as excruciating as she thought it would be at first. He was being enough of a gentleman to keep his distance. He didn't flirt with her or give her any indication that he still felt anything beyond friendship for her. She was thankful for the maturity that he seemed have gained in the time they were apart, but a side of her was bummed that he didn't pay more attention to her. She knew it was wrong, she knew she couldn't go back to where they had been a couple of years ago, but a childish part of her wished he still threw longing looks her way, and told her she looked beautiful when she was wearing nothing but dress pants and an old sweater.

Beckett felt the warmth next to her hand before she felt his presence beside her, as absorbed as she was on the board. Her head turned and she saw him, deep, large bags under his eyes evidence that his night had been as sleepless as her own.

"Good morning, Beckett," he whispered as he placed her coffee and bear claw on the table. She couldn't help the smile that spread on her face. It was the first time he'd brought her breakfast since he'd come back. She managed to control her facial expression, not smiling as their eyes connected.

"Morning, Castle." She looked down at the cardboard cup and the brown paper bag. "You didn't need to bring me anything."

He shrugged. "I got one for me, didn't hurt to bring you one as well. I figured you'd be here already."

He knew her well, just as well as she knew him. He knew her sleep patterns altered when they had a tough case, and even though so much had changed in her in the past few months, he still knew how to comfort her.

"Thank you," she whispered, and the two of them resumed their analysis of the board.

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><p>A couple of hours later they were still in the same spot, having been joined by the two other detectives in their team. Ryan and Esposito sat by their side, all of them conjuring up theories, ways for the Jessica Blaine to get rid of all the evidence that linked her to the case. She'd have to be a criminal mastermind to do something like that, and it was driving the whole team insane.<p>

Beckett's cell phone chirped from its place at her desk, and she picked it up confidently. "Beckett."

Castle watched her as she took the call, nodding a few times. He was still in wonder of her beauty, of how put together she could look even though she hadn't slept properly in days and her figure showed that she probably hadn't eaten properly in months. There was pain underneath that surface, the pain that he thought could be related to the event that had taken place a few months back, and which Henderson had mentioned on their first meeting. He didn't know what had happened but he knew that the boys hadn't brought it up, and he wasn't going to ask Beckett. She seemed to be keeping him away, and he didn't want to ruin his new chance at some closeness with her by asking the wrong question at the wrong time.

Beckett turned off the phone and picked her coat up from her chair.

"That was Lanie," she explained. "She needs me down at the morgue."

Castle got up from his chair. "Mind if I go as well? I haven't seen Lanie since I came back."

Beckett shrugged. "Whatever."

She walked to the elevator with long, confident strides while he ran to catch up with her. They didn't talk at all on their way to the morgue. Lanie was waiting for them with a stern expression.

"Hey Lane," Beckett said familiarly as she approached the table. Castle moved toward her as he saw the Medical Examiner's eyes stuck on him, her expression unreadable.

"Hello, Dr. Parrish," he greeted, putting on his most charming smile. Lanie didn't seem to be moved by it.

"I'm still mad at you," Lanie shot at him. "So you shut up and let me talk to my girl here." Beckett had to hold back a snort. Only Lanie could stand up for her like that.

"Talk to me, Lanie."

"I found something strange," the doctor explained. "A small amount of poison came up in the tox screen, and I'm not sure of what to make of it yet. I just wanted to give you a heads up to look in that general direction, because we might be looking at the wrong person here." Beckett trapped her lower lip between her teeth with a thoughtful expression.

Their reverie was interrupted by the soft ring of Beckett's phone and she grimaced as she took it out of her pocket and looked at the caller ID. "Damn, I have to... I have to take this."

Castle noticed the distressed expression in his partner's face, but chose to ignore it for fear of being struck with a blunt object by her best friend. Lanie's look toward him wasn't exactly friendly, and he felt himself retract a bit from the metal examination table. He was, however, surprised when Lanie leaned against it, her eyes locking with his.

"Castle, what are you doing here?" she asked. He couldn't help but look down, stalling for time. He'd asked that question himself a few times.

"I'm following Beckett around. I'm still missing some details for a couple of scenes and I wanted —

"Bullshit," Lanie called, and he knew she was right. He shut up and let the woman in front of him speak. "Listen, Castle, if you tell Beckett I said any of this, I will make sure you get hurt very, very badly."

"I won't tell. Scout's honor."

"Good." The medical examiner rolled her eyes at his poise, his hand raised in a three finger salute.,She took a step closer and lowered her voice. He could see by her demeanor that she wasn't comfortable talking about Beckett behind her back, her loyal senses kicking in, but the resolve he saw in her dark brown eyes told him that what she had to say was serious, and she wasn't going to avoid it. "Ever since you left, Castle, life hasn't been easy for Kate. She's been stuck in a bad place for a long time and..."

He interrupted, his chest suddenly rising and falling fast as anger took over him. Why did everyone always think she was the only one hurting? Did they really think it hadn't hurt him to leave as well?

"Listen, Lanie, I know I hurt her. But it wasn't all roses for me either! It was hard and — ouch!" Lanie's hand made its way to his ear, pulling it and twisting it as if she were Kate Beckett herself. When Castle let out a low whine, she let him go, setting her hands against the metal table in front of her and looking at him, her eyes blazing with anger.

"You are more of a moron than I'd thought you were, Writer Boy. This isn't about you. This isn't about you leaving, At least, not just about that. Kate had the world falling apart around her after you moved to LA, and you weren't here for her." Lanie's voice softened as she noticed the change in his expression. "Some things happened, and they broke her apart. So I need you to know that she isn't as strong as she's letting you believe. Not yet, Castle, and I don't think she will be for a long time."

"But she hasn't told me..."

"I know. You know how she is. But she's still hurting, and most of that pain isn't even related to you. So I just want to make sure you know that if you think you can walk into her life and sweep her off her feet again... you're wrong. You're wrong and I'll make sure you get your ass kicked." Lanie finished, and the writer took a deep breath.

"Lanie, what is it? What's so serious that it has her..."

Beckett walked into the room, a strange expression on her face as her eyes turned to Lanie. They were red-rimmed, and Castle was sure she had been crying. He had to make use of all his willpower not to reach out and take her hand.

"Everything alright, Kate?" Lanie asked, and Kate nodded.

"Sure. Was that all, Lanie?" She motioned toward the door, and the ME smiled.

"I'll e-mail you the full report in a minute, sweetie." Kate nodded in acknowledgement and opened the door with Castle right behind her. He fell a couple of steps behind as he heard the ME whisper his name. "Keep that in mind, Castle. She's not a toy for you to play with."

"I know," he whispered, and stepped out of the autopsy room. He looked at Kate's figure as she walked down the corridor and was stunned for a moment. What could she be hiding? What could that strong, powerful woman be hiding beneath that front?

Her eyes met his as she held the elevator doors for him and he ran to step inside. As it made its way up, he couldn't help but stare at her, to revel in her beauty and her complexity. He had fallen in wonder with her the first time he'd seen her, and the feeling seemed to refuse to go away. Now, however, the look on his face was of concern, of worry that she might be going through something bigger than herself, something darker. His conversation with Lanie had confirmed his thought that she had gone down the rabbit hole, and that she might still need help to come out of it.

Kate noticed his expression, but managed not to say a word for a few seconds. It did get the best of her, so she spoke up. "What?"

Castle snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he'd been staring at her the entire time. "What... Oh. Nothing."

She turned to face him, and the guilty look on his face told her all she needed to know.

"Oh, damn it." she sighed and her fist darted out to the elevator controls. She pulled the STOP button, making the metallic box stop in its tracks. When she turned to look at the writer again, he looked almost frightened. "What did she tell you, Castle?" she asked, switching to her best interrogation mode.

"Wha?... I didn't... She didn't..." He was stuttering like a little boy. Beckett felt an urge to play with him for a little bit, to make him squirm. Her curiosity got the best of her, though, and she dropped the idea, falling into a more relaxed state.

"What did you two talk about, Castle?"

He sighed in resignation, and Kate knew she'd won. "She told me you'd been through a lot. That's all she said, that some things had happened to you and that I should know about that before I did any more damage."

Kate bit her lip. She had a feeling Lanie would talk, and she knew her best friend was just being protective. Still, she had a choice to make: she could take the easy road and tell him about her father, or talk to him about the attack that had shaken her to the very core. Of course, that would require a sort of intimacy that Kate wasn't sure she could indulge with Castle. He'd know too much about her. The first possibility sounded better. Her father's story would quell his curiosity and probably keep him from asking any more questions regarding the other events.

"It's my father." Castle's eyes widened at her words, but nothing came out of his mouth, so she kept talking. "He was diagnosed with lung cancer shortly after you left. It wasn't an easy fight."

"Kate, I'm..." Castle placed a hand on her shoulder, and for once, she didn't feel like pushing it away. "I'm sorry. If I had known..."

"What? You would've come back?" He was silent and she sighed, her eyes fixed on the wall behind him. "He's okay now. Actually, that's the phone call I got; he got the results of his last MRI — he's cancer free." She smiled, a luminous smile that he hadn't seen in her ever since he'd come back.

"I'm glad," he said. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here when it happened."

Kate stiffened at his words, and he removed his hand from her shoulder. Her fingers pressed into the button and the elevator started to move upwards again, taking them to the floor occupied by the Homicide department.

"Still," Castle said, his writer's curiosity invading all his senses, "Captain Henderson mentioned an event. Is that what she was talking about?"

Kate's expression changed suddenly, from a quiet relaxation to a complete, frightening tension. Her eyes widened and he could see the effort she was making to keep her features straight and blank. He knew her better than that. Even before they had been together, however briefly, he had learned how to read every expression, every twitch of the corner of her mouth or the levels of her frown. He knew there was something else, and it was something that the Captain seemed to know about.

As if on cue the elevator doors opened and she breathed a sigh of relief as she saw Esposito walking towards them with a file on his hand.

"I think Lanie might have cracked this case wide open," he said, and both Castle and Beckett followed him into the bullpen.

* * *

><p>He opened the door silently, expecting everyone at the loft to be asleep. Placing his coat on the closet, he dropped the keys on the entrance table and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes as he was making his way into the living room. To his surprise, when he opened them, his daughter's blue eyes were staring into his.<p>

"Hey," she said softly as he crashed next to her on the couch. Alexis placed the book marker on the page she was on and closed the book, placing it calmly on her lap. "What's wrong?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Why would you say there's something wrong?"

The teenager rolled her eyes. "Come on, Dad. A little credit here. I know you."

Castle sighed. He was a naturally curious man; he liked to dig as deep as he could to find the sources of knowledge, to solve mysteries, to know this and that detail. So it drove him insane when he knew that he was being kept away from some kind of information — especially if that information was about Beckett.

He knew that there was a measure of mystery to her, to her personality, to the seemingly wild episodes of her youth. But at the same time, this was different, something new. This was the reason she appeared to be so broken, so shaken. He had to know why. Somewhere in his chest, the certainty that he could help fueled his need for knowledge. But he had no way of knowing what was going on. Clearly, everyone at the precinct knew what it was, but some silent rule prevented them from talking about it, which made him all the more concerned. The only other taboo they held was over her mother's case, and even that one had been solved a while ago.

"Something's happened to Beckett, and I don't know what it is," he whispered.

"Can't you ask her?"

"I did, and she told me about her Dad getting cancer and..."

"Oh God," she whispered.

"He's okay now, cancer free."

"Okay. So what else do you think happened?" Alexis asked.

Castle sighed. He couldn't really put his finger on it. "I don't know, Lex. I mean, I just know that there's something else, you know? Something the people at the 12th know, but I don't and it's driving me insane."

Alexis sat up straight and pulled a pillow into her lap. She wasn't really sure of how to help her father, but she knew she had to smack some sense into his head before he ruined everything with Detective Beckett once again.

"Dad, maybe she doesn't want you to know."

Castle stared at his daughter for a long moment, as if the possibility of Beckett wanting to keep her secrets to herself had never crossed his mind. His daughter sighed.

"That said," Alexis continued, "if the people at the prencinct know, it might be about a case. And if it is about a case, you can probably find something about it in her file or the news archives."

The writer's eyes lit up as he leaned in to kiss his daughter's forehead. "You're a genius, honey."

"I know," she said as she stood and moved to the stairs. Castle bolted to his office, a new found joy filling his senses. He was just one step closer to unveiling that small mystery.

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><p><em>Let me know what you think! :)<em>


	6. Six

**VI.**

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><p>Castle's fingers flew across the keyboard. His eyes went from one side of the screen to the other, reading and assimilating the knowledge he was getting from searching the news for the past year and half.<p>

While he was in California, he had made a point not to read the crime news from New York. He had for a while, but when his chest started to constrict with the familiar ache after opening the online paper, he gave it up. The result of that avoidance was his complete lack of knowledge about all the murders — kinky ones, too — and kidnappings and stories that he would otherwise have probably lived first-handed if he was still in the Big Apple.

Another piece of collateral damage from his self-imposed New York news ban, was the time he now spent sifting through hundreds of newspapers online, trying to find some connection to Beckett and to whatever it was that had happened to her. He had been at it for nearly four hours. It was two thirty in the morning and he still had nothing. Robberies, a few murders that were too common for him to look into. No mention of Detective Beckett or Detectives Esposito or Ryan. None of them had been interviewed or had given any kind of information to the press.

It was starting to make him desperate. He wasn't used to not succeeding in his searches; his curiosity was the force that drove him most of the time and until it was quelled, it would be impossible for him to relax. His fingers made their way to his eyes, pressing as if the pressure would give him some idea of where to look. Maybe he was exaggerating. Maybe there was nothing, maybe Beckett had only been shot in her big toe and it had prevented her from walking for a while. That thought made his stomach turn; the thought of Kate, the once-his Detective, hurt in any way, was unbearable. He had hoped the feeling would fade with time, but there he was again, feeling like he had before he'd left for the West Coast.

"Going to push your eyes into your skull, Richard?" Martha's unmistakable voice flew across the room and the surprise of it made his elbows fall from the table, taking his fingers away from his face. He couldn't see very well — the pressure had resulted in a few white spots that made him see only half of his mother, who was leaning against the doorway of the study.

"I thought you were asleep, Mother," he said, blinking rapidly to refocus his eyes. He half-watched as the woman made her way into the room and walked towards his desk.

"I was just getting a glass of water." She sat in front of him, crossing her legs and leaning back into the chair. It was a full dramatic pose, and Castle would have smiled if it wasn't for the slow-burning despair that was starting to invade his senses. "Alexis tells me you're going back to working at the precinct."

Castle nodded. "Yes. I went there yesterday, and again today, saw the guys. It was nice."

Martha smiled knowingly. She knew her son like the back of her hand, and what she read into that statement was the lack of a certain detective who had once played a very important part in the writer's life. "And the new Captain? Did he take it well, the idea of you going back into the trenches?"

"Actually, he's a she." he replied.

"Oh, is it, now?" Martha asked, laughter in her voice. She felt like she was getting to the bottom of the question now. "She was willing to have you there again, I see."

"Yes, Mother. She's a very charming woman, very... stern. A good face, the kind you see on television..." Castle's eyes laid distractedly on the computer screen as he started the sentence, flashing to his mother as he trailed off. Martha knew that look. Her son had just realized something, probably unveiling the mystery of some random character. "That's it! Henderson's the one I should be looking for."

Castle's whisper and subsequent delving into the computer had his mother rolling her eyes and getting up from the chair.

"Alright, Richard, I'll leave you to it." With a flourish, Martha Rodgers made her way into the room she called her own.

Castle's fingers flew again as her wrote the new Captain's name in a journal's search. Only one article came up, and he clicked the link immediately. He wasn't prepared for what he saw.

There was a photo of Julia Henderson in a press conference, her poise steadfast and confident as she had been in the precinct that morning. Under the picture, there was a headline that sent shivers down his spine.

_Sallinger case: NYPD Detective attacked in her apartment._

He read the article at the speed of light, his eyes focusing on the words 'sexual assault,' 'homicide detective' and 'violent'. It was a clean piece, with few details. In fact, the only details mentioned said the victim was a female senior detective with the NYPD. What made him certain was the small picture below the article, placed almost as an afterthought. It was the front of Beckett's building, a few police cars parked in front of it with the gum balls lit. The date was from May that year.

All the scotch Castle had been having while he was invested in that search made his way up his esophagus, forcing him to lean to the side and pick up the trash can. He coughed as the liquid came out of his mouth, shock taking over him as he leaned back again, using a kleenex to wipe his lips.

She had been attacked.

He hadn't been here to keep her safe, or even to comfort her afterwards.

The bitterness in his mouth was nothing compared to how horrible his soul felt. The idea of Kate being touched by hands other than his own was sickening, but to know that it had been an attack, that she had been forced to give herself away to some serial killer was threatening to make him vomit again. How could he not know? How could Ryan and Esposito keep this from him, knowing that it would have probably made a difference for him to be there?

He had been the one to leave her, to repeat the feat from a year before and to leave Kate behind to pick up the pieces of their relationship. He had lost the right to know. Castle knew that, but the anger still bubbled in him, making him rise from his chair and punch the wall behind him, looking for an outlet for those feelings. The pain that shot through his hand and up into his shoulder was almost satisfying.

He didn't cry. He felt like it, but he would't allow himself that kind of release when he hadn't been here to dry her tears. Instead, he pressed his forehead against the wall and took a deep breath.

Castle didn't think. His legs seemed to move of their own accord as he went to the door, picked up his jacket and his keys and locked the front door silently behind him. He didn't care if it was almost three in the morning; he had to see her. He had to apologize, to make sure she was safe, that she was there.

His resolve didn't break during the cab ride, only increased. As he made his way into the building and up the stairs, not even shielding his head from the pouring rain, he finally thought of what he would say to her, what he would do. What if she had someone over? What if she had a boyfriend and he was intruding on them?

The worst thought in his mind was that she could have started to pull herself together and his presence would tear her apart. He knew, though. He'd seen how broken she had appeared, in those fractions of a second when she was looking away from him. He'd seen it in her body language, how she had flinched when he moved to touch her arm. Castle had thought it was something against him, but now he was sure that the reaction was a result of the attack.

His breathing was heavy when he reached her door, and before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked three times. Castle took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, but his hands wouldn't steady, his eyes wouldn't stop tearing up.

A minute passed, and the time that would take her to wake up and be at the door was over soon after that. He knocked again, and again, until realization hit him and he placed one hand on the door, leaning against it.

She wasn't home.

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><p>She was unable to sleep, again. Kate Beckett had spent a couple of hours tossing and turning in bed, all the thoughts that she was trying to avoid invading her fiercely, until she threw back the sheets and the comforter and got up.<p>

Kate walked to the kitchenette, her feet bare against the hardwood floors brought a small measure of comfort, relieving some of the tension she was feeling. The day seemed to be endless.

As she filled a pot and placed it on the stove to make tea, thoughts of the writer she wanted to avoid crept into her mind. She finally allowed them to flow like a stream, not fighting them and not trying to avoid the imagery that filled her brain as she moved mechanically around the small kitchen, finally landing at the small table, steaming mug in front of her.

He was back. She didn't know for how long, but he was, and she would have to deal with his presence. She had done it once, she could do it again. Only this time there were complications. She knew things, things she didn't know before when they'd started working together. She knew his smell. She knew what his mouth tasted like, and she knew that his hands on her neck could drive her crazy. She knew his touch, underneath the fabric of her shirt. She knew the strength of his hands over the backside of her jeans.

She also knew his most vulnerable look, when he was telling her he was in love with her. He had looked like an embarrassed school boy, right until the moment she'd taken his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. She knew his smile, that childish smile that he seemed to save solely for her. She knew his voice at five in the morning, when they had been up all night, talking about nonsense.

Kate didn't know the rest of his physical form. They hadn't gone that far in those two weeks, mostly because he hadn't allowed them to. Kate had been willing to jump into bed with him from the first (real) kiss, but he had said no. While the rejection had turned her off at first, his explanation had made her chest fill up with love for him. He was like a young virgin, he wanted their first time to be perfect and significant and she wasn't one to deny him that pleasure, if only because she was so touched by his concern.

It hadn't happened. Two weeks after they had admitted their feelings for each other, he had told her he had to leave. He didn't ask her to follow him — Castle knew her better than that. She had left his loft that night and broken down on the car. He had never touched her again, not even at his farewell party. She had left the party with Lanie, using a headache as an excuse. The lost expression on his face as she exited the restaurant still haunted her.

Kate recognized that she was damaged, and that thought made her rise up from the chair she was sitting in, drinking her tea. Abandoning the mug and reaching into her closet, she put on a pair of sweats and a shirt and picked her coat off the rack before she left her apartment. She needed to walk. She needed to clear her head, and not even the pouring rain could stop her.

* * *

><p>An eerie feeling accompanied Kate as she made her way back home, almost an hour later. Her jacket had prevented most of the rain from soaking through to her body, but her hair was still wet and her features were punctuated with droplets. Still, being covered in water wasn't the problem, there was something else, an awareness. She instinctively reached for the gun she had strapped to her side as she exited the elevator, but let her hand drop to her side as she saw the figure of a man standing in front of her door, his arm folded against the wood and his face hidden in it, as if he was plying hide and seek. She wouldn't have to look to know who the man was; her senses were on such a high alert that she would be able to tell it was Castle even if she couldn't see or smell.<p>

He was dripping as well, which lead her to assume that he had only been up there a few minutes. With her heart pounding in her ears, Kate walked down the hallway, her shoes making a soft noise that made him turn his face to her.

Neither of them spoke for a moment, each taking each other in. Kate was sure they both looked pathetic: soaking wet; large, dark circles under their eyes; faces pale. He was shaking, and she wasn't sure it was from the cold. She knew that she was shaking herself because her nerves were about to give out. What the hell was he doing outside her apartment at three a. m.?

"I'm sorry, Kate, I..." his words died in his mouth and she was grateful that the first sentence he chose was that one. He seemed lost, not at all convinced that he should be there. Her heart softened when she realized that he wasn't there to be his usual charming, seducing self. There was something wrong with his eyes, with the way he looked at her. She took a step closer, finally close enough to see his features, and her stomach dropped.

He looked haunted. There was a streak of despair in his face, like he didn't know what to do with himself, like he had just realized something horrible. She'd seen that expression on him before when Montgomery had died right beside them. It had been etched in his face for days.

Kate didn't talk. She waited for him to continue his speech and he seemed to understand her silence, swallowing before allowing the words to drop out of his mouth, his voice unsteady.

"I saw it... I thought that something else was up and Alexis suggested I look through the online papers and..." he shook his head, as if he was realizing that he was talking too much. His chest inflated with the air from a deep breath, and he started to talk again, this time more steadily. "I found an article, from last May..." The last word out of his mouth caused her to gasp. _Shit._ He knew. She knew he was going to look into that. She knew he would find out eventually, she just didn't expect it to happen so fast. A wave of nausea washed over the Detective, forcing her hand against the wall to her side, as if she was bracing for an impact. The writer wondered if he should help, if he should touch her. His hand reached in her direction, but she reacted quickly, her movement not completely controlled, almost as a reflex.

Castle saw the reaction his words had in the woman in front of him. He watched as her shaking increased to a level where she had to cross her arms in front of her chest in an attempt to hide it. A sigh of resignation left her body as Kate stepped towards him, taking the key and inserting it in the lock after a couple of failed tries.

She looked up at him. "Come inside." she whispered, as she entered. He followed, standing just inside the door, taking everything in.

It had been a long time since he'd been there and he missed the place. There was a quietness inherent to that a apartment, a sense of comfort that he couldn't find any place else, even his own home. As Kate walked to the kitchen area and pulled two glasses out of a cupboard, he dared take a step forward into the living room. He was surprised she was letting him into her apartment that easily.

"So, that's it? You're just going to let me in here without kicking my ass?" His voice was tentative and Kate recognized his effort to try and lighten the mood. She couldn't comply, though. If she was going to tell him, she was going to have to muster up all of her control, and it wasn't easy to do when he was standing there, looking at her like an abandoned puppy.

Kate walked to the bedroom and stopped in the middle of the square room, her eyes closing as she let her head fall back and rolled it on her stiff shoulders, trying to loosen the tension. This was familiar, too intimate for her idea of distance, but at the same time it was comfortable. She could almost pretend the previous year and a half hadn't happened. She marveled for a moment at how easy it was for two old lovers to fall into the same routine; she surely had the impulse to do just that, to let herself rest against his chest and to allow him to comfort her like she wished he had six months go. Finally opening her eyes, Kate pulled out a couple of towels from the linen closet. Moving to the living room, she extended one of them to the man in front of her.

"You're soaking. Dry yourself off, I'll be right back."

She worked on autopilot as she went into her room and changed into her dry pajama pants and worked a towel through her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders in an effort to dry it out. She didn't bother looking in the mirror; she knew she wouldn't be pleased with whatever sight she got.

When Kate entered the living room again, Castle had already taken off his coat and used the towel to dry his hair, refolded the damp towel and placed it on the counter. She took a moment to appreciate his neatness — which she knew wasn't natural but that he had grown accustomed to, knowing her need for a tidy environment — and moved toward the cupboard just below the sink, pulling out a bottle of whiskey. When Castle's eyebrows rose in surprise, she walked to the sofa and placed the bottle and the glasses on the table in front of her.

"We'll need the booze, trust me."

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's note:<span>_

_Someone mentioned to me that they found the a/n in the beginning of the chapters distracting, so I'm moving them to the end instead. Is this better? Let me know, okay?_

_I hope you guys like this chapter! To be honest, I wrote this one and the next together, but decided to split them up when I realized I was bordering on 7,000 words. I like big chapters, but not that much, and I did think you guys could use a cliffhanger. Right? 'Cause we haven't had enough of those lately!_

_Thank you so much to those of you who read and review this story. Oh, and my darling readers who add it as a favorite or subscribe to the alerts — this story passed the 100 alerts this week — thank you so very much as well. You guys keep me going with your unwavering support. :) And don't forget to review this chapter! :) I reply to most of the reviews, and sometimes I let slip a few spoilers. Hihihi._

_Another thank you note for K, who's been incredible and has been printing out all the chapters. You rock, darling! :)_

_Have a wonderful week, and don't forget to drop me a word!_


	7. Seven

**VII.**

* * *

><p>They sat and Kate poured drinks for both of them. She couldn't rely on autopilot any longer. She was forced to acknowledge his presence right in front of her. The lights were dim, making the scene seem more intimate than it was, but it didn't bother either of them. She'd rather he not see her features as she told her story.<p>

"Kate, I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have come here, but I needed..." he started as he sat, turning his body toward her, but she cut him off.

"If you're going to hear it from someone, it better be me. I'm tired of wandering around this issue." Kate said sternly, as she downed the entire glass of whiskey, shivering afterwards. He did the same and after a moment they were both leaning against the back of the couch, their arms folded and supporting their heads. The symmetry of the scene was unknown to either of them, but both recognized the intimacy of their positioning. For once, they didn't resist the chemistry and kept their positions.

"If you need me to stop, I will. Just say it," she whispered., His chest swelled at the notion that she was concerned for _him_. She was worried it might be too much for him to handle, while she should be worried about herself.

"I can handle it, Kate," he reassured her.

She seemed to take his words into consideration, and he saw the shadow of a nod. "Alright."

Kate took a deep breath and her eyes studied her hands entwined on her lap. She cleared her throat, but her voice still came out low. It was cold, almost distanced, like she was describing something that had happened to somebody else, not her.

"From 2008 to 2010, a man named Peter Sallinger killed four women, all of them prostitutes, here in Manhattan. He used to be a lawyer in Chicago until he was disbarred for having an affair with a witness, and he fell under the radar for a while. He moved to New York under the name of Jack Weber and worked as city employee, cleaning up the streets at night, which was when he started to attack the women. He always killed them on the 12th of each month, so when we made the connection he became known as the 12th Killer." Castle nodded, indicating his understanding. "Last May, he killed a young woman named Michaela Ember. She was the daughter of..."

"Senator Philip Ember?" Castle whispered, shocked. Kate nodded.

"He thought she was a hooker. She was working with the social services, trying to take women off the streets, when he caught her and killed her. That's when I was assigned the case." Kate leaned forward and poured herself another glass, caressing it between the fingers of both her hands. Castle could see the tension building in her. "We investigated every lead we got, but we kept hitting dead ends. I wasn't just pissed because of that, I was pissed because we had a serial killer on our hands and it only became a priority when a politician's daughter was killed." Kate took a quick breath, her passionate speech about the injustice of the situation making Castle smile softly. _That's my Kate_, he thought, but his smile went unnoticed. Beckett was on a roll. "When a week went by, I asked Henderson to call Jordan Shaw. He wasn't being called a serial killer, because the ME who had first worked the cases refused to acknowledge the similarities, and it was driving both me and Lanie insane. I wasn't able to sleep and I was starting to let that seep into the case, so I thought Jordan was the only one who could, maybe help us out a bit."

"Jordan came down?" he asked, and Kate smiled bitterly.

"Henderson refused. She said we'd be able to solve this on our own. So after another couple of days of fighting and hitting dead ends, she finally made the call. It was too late, though. That same day, Sallinger sent the first of a couple of threatening messages to the precinct, with me as the target.

"One night, a couple of days after the FBI team arrived, I came home and had a glass of wine, went to bed. Jordan wanted to come, stay with me, but I said no." When Kate saw the look of disbelief on Castle's face, she genuinely smiled, for the first time that night. "It's amazing, Castle, what being together against someone can do for a relationship. In our resentment towards Henderson, Jordan and I became sort of... friends. In those three days, out of nowhere, we learned how to trust each other. And that's when it happened." Kate's voice lowered to a point where Castle could barely hear her. so he leaned closer. The Detective looked up and realized that they were dangerously close to each other, but she didn't move. "He paralyzed me, probably put something in my wine to sedate me and then injected me with some sort of anesthetic, Lanie knows what it is. Then he hit me. He punched me on the side and in the face. Broke a couple ribs, gave me a hairline fracture on my eye socket. He slapped my legs and pinched them so hard that the pain was blinding. And that's when he placed himself on top of me and pulled my shirt up."

Kate could see Castle flinching as the words came out of her mouth, and even in the faint light of the room she could see the glimmer of tears in his eyes.

"He touched me, first on my chest, then he ripped my underwear and..." Castle had stopped breathing for a second, and Kate didn't think before extending her arm and allowing her fingertips to touch his on top of the couch. It was the faintest of touches, but it was enough, both providing him with comfort and giving her the strength to keep telling her story. "Everything hurt, Castle, but I couldn't scream. So he was there for a while, telling me he wanted me dead, that I was dirtier than the street whores he'd seen and killed, that my life would be over when he was done with me, and I couldn't do anything. I was paralyzed. That's when Lanie got into the apartment. Apparently, she had tried to call me a dozen times and I hadn't answered, so she and Esposito came over. As soon as he heard the door open, he bolted out of the window. Lanie came into the room, and that was the worst part..." Kate's voice was now reduced to a whisper, Castle's fingers moving an inch closer to her, covering her nails. It was like they were both afraid to touch each other. He was being strong for her, his tears confined to his eyes, so she wouldn't break down either. "Lanie couldn't stop crying, and even though Esposito ran after him, he couldn't catch him. So they took me to the hospital and I was there for a week. In that week, through the forensic evidence he had left on me, they were able to catch him. They used Jordan as bait and ambushed him." the Detective took a deep breath. "He's in jail. And I'm here."

"Kate, I..." Castle's words died in his mouth and she looked away, trying to remain as strong as he was being. She sighed, wiping the single tear with the sleeve of her shirt.

"I can still feel him sometimes. Touching me." she whispered, and Castle's eyes widened.

He wanted to throw up again. He wanted to take a gun and go up to that prison, shoot the man in the head. He wanted to make him suffer for what he did to the woman in front of him. Instead, he got up from the couch and walked from one side to the other, his pacing making her nervous. He seemed completely lost, even more than he was half an hour ago when he'd entered her apartment. There was a darkness in his features, a new found anger that the Detective recognized, having felt it herself for a while. It was just a new thing to see in him, always so peaceful, so rational when it came to hurting other people.

She saw the storm in his eyes and turned her face sharply when he moved to the wall and punched it, using the same hand he'd used before in his study. The strength he put into it this time, however, made the blood appear almost instantaneously on his knuckles, prompting Kate to jump from the couch to his side.

"Don't." she said, her eyes in his. "Don't _ever_ get hurt because of me."

She grabbed his other hand and pulled him to the kitchen, grabbing a pack of peas from the freezer and wrapping it in a cloth. She took his hand and placed it under running water, making him flinch, and used her fingers to wipe out the wound.

It was an awfully intimate moment for two people who were hell bent on keeping their distance. Kate's fingers caressed his knuckles with a tenderness that was customary for their previous relationship, not really worrying about touching his blood or about the fact that he could see her tears. She wasn't crying for herself, she was crying for him and for how he would have to carry that burden with her. It was enough that Lanie and Esposito had to remember her that way, bloody and humiliated on her bed.

He closed his eyes when she placed the frozen peas on the wound, pressing slightly.

"I'm sorry. I know it hurts." she whispered.

It took him a moment before he could speak again, his hand now firmly over hers.

"Kate, why didn't I know about this?" he whispered. She shrugged.

"I asked everyone to keep it under wraps. I asked the boys specifically not to tell you." She took a deep breath, and the hurt he had caused her hit him suddenly. His jaw clenched with the tension, and she spoke again. "You left. I was trying to get over you, and I couldn't rely on someone who had left to get me through this." She looked up at him, a complete and utter sadness filling her features. "I still don't know that I can."

"Then why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're my partner again. And there are things you need to know about your partner, the big things. The things that make them who they are." She sighed "And this is a part of who I am now. I'm —" She held her breath before saying the word, "damaged. That's what I am."

Castle was silent for a long moment, and the fact that he didn't deny her newly acquired adjective was both hurtful and comforting for Kate. She didn't want him to give her the pep talk everyone else had, but at the same time she wished he would have said something. The tension was growing between them, but the Detective didn't move her hand away from his. She didn't want him to think he was being inadequate, that his reaction wasn't enough. Her expectations should be kept to herself, not shared with him. He felt bad enough as it was.

After a couple of heavy minutes Kate drew her hand away, leaving Castle's left hand holding the bag of vegetables. She sighed, leaning against the counter, while the writer's eyes were still on his hand.

"You should probably leave," Kate whispered, not facing him. If he had nothing to say, if the air was to be that heavy between them, then he should go. The distance would be imposed again, the cold smiles would return to her features and she would go back to life as it was before he came back. She had been living it for a while now, hadn't she? Besides, what didn't kill her made her stronger. Hadn't those been the words in every single card that was sent to her at the hospital? Maybe there was some kind of truth to it after all.

She didn't count on having him right beside her at a moment's notice. Her hair was covering her face, so she didn't see him approaching her, but she felt his presence when he was close enough to touch her.

"No," he whispered.

"No?" she echoed, momentarily confused.

"I'm not leaving," he whispered. Castle placed the peas on the counter, wiping his hand. The hand that wasn't hurt made its way to her back, hovering. "I'm staying here tonight. I'll sleep on the couch," he said with confidence. For a moment, she was brought back to the the time when she had tried to convince him to stop following her and he had taken his place as her partner. His resolve then was similar now. "And I'm going to touch you now," he whispered again, shakily.

Her faint nod was enough for Castle, who placed the tips of his fingers on her back, softly. Kate flinched, her eyes shutting, but she willed herself to relax into his touch. He gave her a second before he placed his hand fully between her shoulder blades, moving his fingers in soothing circles.

It was a little bit like reaching the surface of the ocean when you've been diving for too long, like a cool breeze kissing your skin on a scolding August day. For a second, when Castle's fingers began to move softly on her back, Kate felt like she was free of worries, free of the ties that bound her, after everything that had happened. Like the only thing that mattered was the hand on her back and the calm, soothing breaths of the man standing beside her.

She wasn't normally one to ask for help — to actually need help, for that matter. But this time she accepted it willingly. She had been fighting this dragon on her own for so long that if felt wonderful to lay down the sword for a moment and just enjoy the view. Even with the doubts creeping in her mind, even through the insecurities of loving Richard Castle, of having her heart broken by him, what they achieved then was a moment of pure bliss. Kate wondered for a moment if that was the kind of Nirvana people tried to achieve through yoga or meditation.

Castle's hand stayed on Kate's back as he took a step forward, moving closer to her. Kate's eyes didn't leave the table. She didn't trust herself — being this vulnerable — to resist his charm. When he spoke, the tears threatened to make their way back up, but she stopped them.

"To me, Kate, you'll never be damaged," he whispered soothingly. "You'll always be the strongest woman I know. You'll always be unbreakable."

"He broke me." she said, simply.

"Nah, he didn't," he smiled as he leaned into her hair, his nose getting lost in her wavy mane. She smelled of cherries, even with the rain. "You're not alone anymore, Kate. Even if you don't want me back in the way we were before, even if you don't trust me, I'm here. I'll always be here, and I'll always be the first one to get to you if you need me."

"And when you decide to leave again?" Her voice held a bitterness that he wasn't expecting, but his hand kept moving on her back, not allowing her to tense up again.

"I'll be here." he said, and moved his hand a couple more times before placing a soft kiss on top of her head. Without heels she was considerably shorter than he was, and he could have held her to his chest without effort. He didn't, though, choosing to take a step back instead. "Now, if you could bring me a blanket or something, I'll just sleep here." he said, moving to sit on the couch. Kate turned around and leaned against the kitchen island, her expression unreadable. He knew her; she was weighing her options on something, and he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Kate knew it was crazy. It was a stupid idea, if she ever wanted to keep her distance, but she felt like she needed his presence, his closeness. The couple of minutes he had spent by her side, just now, had been the best in months, and she felt herself fall apart again at the thought of not having that tenderness with her tonight. It had been a wild, emotional time, and she finally allowed herself to request some measure of comfort.

"Sleep with me." His eyes widened and Kate's cheeks turned red as soon as the words came out of her mouth. "I mean, sleep in my bed." Castle's amused expression wasn't helping with her blushing, and she stuttered as she spoke. "You know what I mean! No funny business." she sighed "I just..." She fought the words as they came out of her mouth. "I don't want to be alone. Not after talking about it If you're staying, you might as well make yourself useful and wake me up if I have any nightmares. And you can't do that from the couch.," she stated, calmly, and Castle stood up from the couch.

"Alright." he said, following her into the ample bedroom.

She had gotten into her pajamas in the bathroom and Castle had stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and sat on the bed. Kate pulled back the blankets and got in, lying on her side, turned to the middle. He mimicked her moves, lying in the exact same position as she had and turning off the light. The soft city lights invaded the room through the window and he could see the faint outline of Kate's body. He smiled. If anyone had told him, two days before, that he'd be back in bed with Kate Beckett, he would have laughed bitterly. Even though they weren't actually together now, that this was simply a measure of comfort, he felt at peace. That was, until her legs moved and her cold feet touched his. He jumped back, hissing.

"Woman, your feet are freezing."

Kate smiled, the playful banter from years ago suddenly taking up the room. "That's why I need to warm them up on yours."

"No, no no, you do not get to make my feet cold. I'll have you know I have very sensitive feet." He smiled, and Kate's legs retreated, her face burying into the pillow with a smile.

"I missed this." she whispered. The sleepiness, together with the emotional draining and the whiskey seemed to have turned off the filter between her brain and her mouth. "I missed laughing with you."

Extending an arm in her direction, he grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through his. Kate's heart skipped a beat when his hand caught hers, but she allowed his fingers to take over her own. His voice broke the silence of the room.

"About the nightmares..." he started. "You think you'll have one tonight." It wasn't a question, but the Detective felt compelled to reply anyway.

Kate sighed. "Yes."

"Would you like me to wake you up if you have one?" He didn't need to see her face to know she was rolling her eyes at him.

"Duh."

"Alright, alright. I was just asking. Wouldn't want you to shoot me or anything," he said, his voice taking a high, victim-like tone.

"I'll do my best not to kill you, Castle," she laughed softly.

"Thank you."

The silence that enveloped them was comfortable, and Kate sighed softly as Castle tenderly drew on the back of her hand with the tips of his fingers.

"Castle?" she called, and his fingers stilled for a moment.

"Hm?" he hummed a response, and she turned her face towards him. In a fraction of a second, she took his hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, placing both of their fingers on the pillow again. After wiping the smile off his face, a second later, he resumed his drawings,

"Thank you," she whispered into the night, and the two of them were finally taken by sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_Here's the second part of the last chapter I posted. Like I said, I wrote them as a piece, together, and only split them after I finished, so they should be seen as one. I hope you like this one as much as you did the other. I am terribly insecure about it; I'm not sure of my Castle and Beckett are moving too fast or too slow, if the scene where she tells him everything is overly emotional, or sappy. I just don't know. This was the hardest chapter to write, and while I'm proud of some parts, I'm also very unsure about others._

_As usual, thank you so very much to all of you who review and add my story as a favorite. It means the world to me that you take the time to read and say something._

_Oh, and before I forget. The very lovely **magenta13** told me about this song that was thought to fit the fiction: Michael Bublé's _Lost_. I have to say, Bublé is one of my favorite singers and I loved this song before, but now that (thanks to magenta13) I made the connection between the story and the music, I love it even more. So if you have the time and the inclination, search for it on youtube or something and give it a listen. I don't think you'll regret it. :)_

_Thanks, as always, to my darling K, without whom this fic would be a pit of spelling mistakes and bad punctuation._


	8. Eight

**VIII.**

* * *

><p>Castle didn't count on the scent that filled his nostrils as he lay somewhere between sleep and consciousness. He lay sprawled, completely relaxed, as he felt the first signs of a cognitive life invade him. The twitch of a hand, the perception of light through his closed eye lids. He was slowly but steadily making his way out of the dream land, and the closer he got to complete wakefullness, the more he smelled the soft, satisfying scent of coffee brewing. Castle stirred slowly on the bed until an unfamiliar matress warned him to the fact that he wasn't home. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and when he did his eyes sprung open, his head turning to face the side of the bed where Beckett had slept.<p>

She wasn't there, but the sun was up and he had a feeling the day had started a while ago for her. He'd slept like a baby for the first time in the insomnia-filled months since he'd been back. While his sleep was light at first, focused on her breathing and the sounds she made in case he'd have to rescue her from a nightmare, his own exhaustion soon gave way to rest, and he'd slept peacefully. He hadn't even stirred when she got out of bed.

Castle sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to drive the sleepiness away. When he opened them he realized that the woman he had shared the bed with was standing at the door, leaned against the frame with a soft smile on her face. "You're up," was all he could say. Kate approached him and extended her arm, offering him the dark beverage.

"No kidding." She rolled her eyes at him, and for a second his heart warmed up. It was like old times, all over again. Damn, he'd even missed the eye roll. "Drink up. There's a spare toothbrush for you on the sink, and a set of towels for you to wash up." She pointed at the door to the master bathroom and he nodded, taking a sip of the coffee. It was only then that he realized she was already dressed and ready for work, her hair and make up as flawless as ever. How she managed to look like that with a mere four hours of sleep was still a mystery for him.

"Thanks," he whispered, his voice still raspy from sleep. He'd slept so profoundly that he didn't even remember if she had needed him during the night. "Beckett, did you..."

"I woke myself up before it got too bad," she replied and leaned back against the wall with her mug cradled gently between her hands. "It's kind of a defense mechanism, I guess," she explained softly.

"Kind of defeats the purpose of me being here." He felt guilty. She had allowed him to stay, to share a bed with her and he hadn't even served his real function. Kate shrugged it off.

"It's okay. You got to sleep decently for a few hours. From the look on your face in the past few days, you haven't been sleeping very well."

She had noticed. Again, Castle's heart constricted for a second at the realization that there was some concern on her part for his well being. Even with the talk from the night before, the tale of horror that was now a part of her life, he felt like she was far, far away from his reach. It was almost as if during the night her defenses had regenerated and she was the no-nonsense Detective all over again. That small bit of concern, of satisfaction over his proper rest, told him that maybe there was a way for him to get into her life again in the way he wished he could be.

"I slept fine. I wish I'd woken you up, though," he said, and finished his coffee. He moved to get out of bed and Kate looked away to give him some privacy. She'd seen his underwear a few times, but it still felt too intimate in that moment.

"It's fine, Castle," she said and turned around. "Get ready to go, okay? Ryan and Esposito called. They have a lead on the Pratt case and they want us there. Don't take too long staring at yourself in the mirror," she said playfully as he rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom. There they were again, he thought. Writer and Detective, ready to face the world.

* * *

><p>Kate parked her car in front of the precinct and picked her purse up from the passenger seat. She had dropped Castle off at his place to get cleaned up and drove to her workplace calmly. She wasn't in the mood to rush anything. Her exhaustion from the previous night, however eased by the fitful sleep, was still holding on to her spirit. She wasn't sad or desperate — not any more than she'd been the day before — but she was still tired. Emotionally, she was completely drained.<p>

She was somewhat happy, too. When she woke up about three hours after they'd gone to sleep, she had unwillingly stared at his sleeping form for a bit. She did her best to avoid it, but it seemed like something out of her control. He looked so much like a young boy, his lower lip pouting slightly and his expression tense, as if he was frowning at something in a dream. He slept on his stomach, one leg pulled up to meet his elbow and the other completely straight, and curiously he didn't hog the covers at all. In fact, she had woken up rolled up in the sheets, while he had no covers at all, a fact which she corrected right after she got out of bed, taking the time to pull the sheet over his sleeping form and to tenderly touch his cheek. This last movement hadn't exactly been planned, but she couldn't being herself to regret it.

The morning hadn't been as awkward as she'd expected it to be. Usually, when people found out about the attack — Ryan, her dad, even Henderson — they didn't know how to act around her. They were scared, somehow, of her presence, as if she had turned into something breakable, a fragile china doll. She hated that. She didn't blame her friends, who were concerned, but the situation tended to strip her of any comfort she might get from them. With Castle, though, it had been different. It'd been comfortable, as if nothing had changed. It was as if they'd seen the situation, examined it and pushed past it in order to achieve some normalcy. Kate had expected him, of all people, to be overly protective with her, to try shield her from the world. Maybe it just hadn't sunk in yet for him.

Beckett made her way into the precinct and entered the elevator. The building was mostly empty at that time in the morning, but she knew she'd have her other partners waiting for her in the office. She didn't count on having the two of them hovering at the elevator door, waiting for her like children waiting for Santa.

When she stepped out of the elevator car, the two of them walked with her, flanking her and talking hurriedly. She looked at them like they were overly excited children. When they started to babble at the same time, she stopped in her tracks and spoke up.

"Guys!" she said, and the two men in front of her stopped talking. "Geez, Castle's been here a couple of days and you guys are already acting like him? Speak slowly." She looked at Ryan. "And one at a time," she said pointedly

Ryan smiled at his given right to talk while Esposito crossed his arms in front of his chest and shifted his weight impatiently from one foot to the other. "We solved the case," Ryan told her with a grin.

"Wait, what?" The look on Beckett's case was of pure disbelief. How could they have cracked the case between the time she left the night before and now?

"We did it. We really solved it," the Irish detective spoke in a high pitched, excited voice that had both she and Esposito rolling their eyes.

"Ryan," she said, sternly. "Stop acting like a cheerleader. Explain."

He seemed to take a second to compose himself and then held the open the case file in front of Beckett's face. "Remember that poison that Lanie talked about? Turns out it was important."

"Who poisoned him?" Beckett asked.

"The lover. But, before you ask me about the strangling, let me just tell you that this wasn't a one woman job," Ryan explained.

Esposito cut in. "Turns out, Jessica had been poisoning him for a while, weakening him. And there was someone we forgot to check." Kate's curious expression encouraged the latino Detective to continue. "The girlfriend's brother, Jeremy. Turns out, his alibi isn't so solid, and we found forensic evidence on the rope Pratt was strangled with. The reason our chef didn't fight back was because he was sick from the poison."

The senior Detective smiled at the two men in front of her. "Well done, guys. Let's go get them." The smug look on their faces told her that she was way off the point. "You already got them in custody, don't you?"

"In booking, actually. They're already being sent to holding, until they see a judge tomorrow morning." Esposito explained. "And it's only nine a. m."

The three of them walked to Beckett's desk and sat down in their respective chairs. Esposito looked at Castle's empty seat and raised his eyebrows. "Where's your shadow?"

"At home, I imagine," she replied, non-commitally. The last thing she needed was for them to know that Castle had spent the night at her place. The jokes would start all over again and even though she had been slightly amused in the past, she knew that she wouldn't be able to bear them now. "Actually, guys, I think I'm going to go see Lanie. I have a couple of things I want to ask her."

Ryan and Esposito smiled and got up from their chairs. "Tell her I say 'hi'," Esposito said. Kate rolled her eyes, amused.

"Oh please, as if you hadn't said 'hi' to her at least a dozen times already today. Isn't that what you're constantly texting her?" Kate replied, and Ryan laughed.

"I have a feeling the texts might be a tad more... inappropriate," Ryan fake-whispered to Beckett, earning him a crumpled piece of paper to the forehead for his remarks. Beckett laughed out loud and started to walk towards the elevator again, not even ten minutes after she'd entered the precinct. During the trip down to the morgue, the insecurity that had been threatening to take over the Detective's chest seemed to finally cut loose. Kate's hands started to shake softly and she hid them in the pockets of her pants, trying to appear relaxed in case someone came in.

She'd started to feel nervous right after she arrived at the precinct and was met with the memory of how people had reacted to her attack. So many people had pretended to not know, only to gossip about it behind her back or to throw her pitying looks that made her stomach turn. She knew it was the way people had to deal with a situation so horrible that there was no rule or know-how, but it still hurt. And as the memories had risen, Kate asked herself if Rick was just faking it, if the knowledge of what had happened to her would change the way he acted towards her. For the first time since she had let him into her apartment, she regretted her decision.

The elevator doors slid open and Kate exited the elevator, taking a quick peek into the autopsy room to make sure Lanie was alone. When she realized that her friend was doing paperwork on her desk, she walked in, the clicking of her heels on the ground enough to make the ME turn her head.

"Hey," Lanie greeted, smiling up at her friend. Kate walked up to her and dragged a chair along, sitting beside her at the desk.

"Hey you," she whispered. Lanie returned her attention to the paperwork in front of her.

"The boys tell you that they made two arrests?" Lanie asked, her eyes scanning through a piece of paper with something Kate could only identify as medical jargon written all over it. "They were pretty happy about it." The medical examiner's eyes rose up to meet her friends with an exasperated expression. "And by 'pretty happy,' I mean like a little girl on Christmas morning, giggling and all."

Kate laughed. Lanie had a way of making her feel at ease with just a few words; that was the reason they'd become so close, so fast. The Detective was a loner, and the Medical Examiner was interested in her life. Her relaxed approach to every situation balanced Kate's somewhat stern demeanor perfectly.

"I saw. They were practically bouncing off the walls upstairs," Kate commented.

Lanie reached the end of the piece of paper in front of her, signed at the bottom and slid the sheet into a folder. She placed the cap on her pen and both her hands on top of the file, as if keeping it closed by force. "Alright, I'm all done." she said, turning to Kate with a smile. "What's the matter, sweetie?"

Kate scoffed. She knew Lanie would see right through her, but there was no need to give her the satisfaction of knowing she could, was there? "Nothing! Why would there be something wrong?"

Lanie rolled her eyes and Kate wondered if she was rubbing off on her friend. "Right. First, we don't have a case, so you have no need to come here for information. Secondly, I didn't say something was wrong, I asked what the matter was." She looked at Kate's posture, bent forwards with her elbows on her knees, and shook her head. "But by the looks of it something is wrong. What is it?"

Kate opened her mouth once, twice, but nothing came out. She didn't know where to start. Hell, she didn't even knew if she wanted to start. Of course, she had come to the morgue without a professional reason, which should be enough to tell her own rational brain that she needed to talk.

"Where's Writer Boy?" Lanie's voice pulled the Detective out of her thoughts and she was finally able to form a coherent phrase.

"He's at home, I guess. He had to change before we came into the precinct," she said, simply, and braced for the impact.

"Wait a second," Lanie said, her jaw slacking slightly. "We came into the precinct? What the hell? Did you two..."

"No!" Kate's voice climbed a couple of decibels, but she corrected herself quickly. "Not in that way, at least."

"In what way, then?" Lanie's voice had gone from surprised to skeptical in a heartbeat, and she was now studying her friend's expression closely.

"He came over last night. Or morning, actually, since it was about three a. m. Apparently, someone," Kate looked at her friend pointedly, and Lanie blushed slightly, "told him that something horrible had happened to me, and he couldn't let it go. So he started to dig through old papers. He found an article from May on the Ledger and put two and two together, so he thought it would be a good idea to come over."

"Oh, dear." Lanie's soft whisper didn't interrupt Kate's stream of consciousness, and she kept talking.

"I told him. Everything." The Detective shrugged, placing her chin on her intertwined fingers and closing her eyes. "I'm afraid that might have been a mistake."

"Why? How did he react?"

"He was sweet, actually." A smile started to invade Kate's features, but she seemed to be too enthralled in her own speech to notice it in time to avoid it. "He refused to go home, so he slept over. Nothing else happened. I dropped him off at his place before I came into the precinct." She sighed, neglecting to mention that they had slept in the same bed. Her eyes drifted toward her hands as she straightened up on the chair. "I don't think it hit him, though. I don't think the reality of it has fallen on him quite yet, and I'm terrified of what will happen when it does."

"What makes you think that, sweetie? 'Cause he might just be taking it better than you expected him to," Lanie whispered. It was her turn to lean forward on the chair so she could be closer to her friend. She extended her arm and placed a hand softly on Kate's. The ME noticed that there was no movement from Kate when she touched her, and she suppressed a smile. A week before Kate would have flinched at the contact, even coming from Lanie herself.

"I know him, Lanie. He was still too... light. He was angry for a bit, last night, but then he was calm and collected and I think he might have pushed it out, you know? Sort of avoided it. This morning he was more quiet, but I think it was from the exhaustion." Kate paused, considering. "The thing is, I want to be with him when it happens, when the anger wears off. I don't want him to face it alone, I know how horrible it is," she whispered, and her friend's hand clutched hers.

"Honey, he's the one who should be taking care of you, not the other way around."

"I don't need to be taken care of," Kate whispered half-heartedly.

"Yes, you do," Lanie retorted just as softly. Kate sighed. "Tell you what: Javier and Ryan were thinking about having a small celebration tonight at the Old Haunt. We haven't been there since he left, and the guys miss the place. You should come too, with Castle, and you can both be around each other, distract each other."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Lane," Beckett answered skeptically.

"I promise you, it is. And besides, that way you can be close to him in case he needs you." Lanie leaned back on the chair, a victorious smile spreading on her features. "Though I do still think that he should be the one to worry about you."

At Lanie's words, Kate's mind wandered to the night before, to his fingers laced with hers. After he thought she had fallen asleep, he had pulled their locked hands closer to his chest and held them there, close to his heart. For the first time since he had left, Kate had been able to feel that soft, quick thump beneath her fingers and she had allowed that beat to lull her into sleep. "He worries. I know he does."

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_I know. I am so, so sorry for the delay of this chapter. I hate to break any commitment I make, and when I started this fanfic I said I'd update twice a week. To go almost two weeks without updating is something I didn't count on, but real life sort of took over and I had work to do. A wedding, a showcase, the photos from both to process, a new project, well, I've been busy. But I do expect to be able to go back to my schedule now._

_There's something I'd like to say before one of you guys notices, if you haven't already: in my fanfic world, the morgue is located on the basement of the 12th precinct building. Call it too much _Rizzoli & Isles_ — it's exactly what it is. But I sort of like the idea of Lanie being that close, physically, to the crowd at the station. So there, another piece of AU._

_Also, in my story, Beckett never got shot. I outlined this fiction shortly before the finale aired, and although I did include Montgomery's death as a background detail (I know. It pains me too), Kate wasn't shot. As for Johanna Beckett's murder, I'm basing this all on the way it was left at the finale. There's still someone big to catch, but no new leads appeared, so there's no moving forward on that front. So far._

_Big thanks to K for the wonderful beta work. She's amazing._

_Last but not least, thank you all so much for your support. You guys make me want to write and write, and every review I get makes me smile for hours. I love hearing from you, I love knowing what you think about the chapters, so talk to me, okay?_


	9. Nine

**IX.**

* * *

><p>The entire day's worth of paperwork seemed to do nothing to ease the pride on Ryan and Esposito's features when the crew got ready to leave the precinct. It was nearly five in the afternoon and they were both smiling broadly, signing the last of the reports and closing them up in their respective desks before getting up and fetching their coats. Kate watched the interaction between them from her own desk, smiling as Esposito rolled his eyes at Ryan's happy expression upon getting a text from who Kate thought would be Jenny.<p>

"I think most of that happiness is actually because they're going back to the Old Haunt," came a voice behind her. Kate turned to find Lanie standing next to her, her coat in her hands and her make up impeccable for an early night out.

"How long has it been since they've been there? They must have gone while Castle was in California," Kate whispered, suddenly realizing what Lanie meant when she'd said earlier that they'd been avoiding the bar.

"Nuh-uh," the ME shook her head. "They never said anything to me, not even Javier, but I think that it might have something to do with loyalty to you, sweetie. You stopped going, so they did too."

"But they didn't know," Kate said, and lowered her voice for the next few words. "About me and Castle being together, they didn't know."

"Yeah, but they must have sensed your heartbreak."

Kate felt a warmth in her chest as Lanie's words came out of her mouth and her best friend's hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing it softly. She wondered for a moment what she had done to deserve those boys, those men, standing up for her in the way they did. It was like she had been granted two older brothers, two protective — sometimes overbearingly so — sweet and kind big brothers.

Esposito seemed to realize Lanie was present and his face split into a smile so close to Ryan's, minutes before, that Kate grinned. The male detective made his way across the bullpen and kissed his fiancé softly on the lips.

"Hey," they whispered to each other in unison. Kate would have felt like a third wheel if it weren't for the joyful voice behind them all.

"Everyone ready for the return of the Old Haunt?" Castle asked from the hallway in an excited, boyish tone.

"Hell, yes!" Lanie replied, and the five of them walked towards the end of a long, eventful shift.

* * *

><p>Castle was riding with Beckett, which he appreciated, of course. She had looked at him strangely when they left the precinct, and he had been waiting for the conversations to die out and for everyone to get in their respective cars so that he could ask her what was going on.<p>

Their conversation from the night before still bore a hole in his chest. He had tried to hide his discomfort — no, his despair - at the thought that she had been violated in such a horrible way, but he had the nagging feeling that she was worrying about him more than she was about herself. It wasn't like the reality of the situation hadn't sunk in yet, it was more that he chose to deal with things in his own, private way. He didn't need her to feel burdened by his pain, even if the pain he felt was intrinsically connected to the love he felt for her. He wasn't kidding himself on that count; he still loved her like before, maybe even more.

"What's on that crazy mind of yours, Castle?" Her words echoed in the small confines of the car, and he wondered if the fleck of fear he heard in them was real or a product of his imagination.

"You," he replied, simply, and for a moment Kate Beckett was unable to form the words to reply to that statement. "I mean, I was wondering why you looked at me like that when we left the precinct."

"Like what?" Oh, she had been busted. She had hoped that her look of concern had gone unnoticed, but it hadn't. Much to the contrary.

"Like you were waiting for me to punch a wall again."

Her eyes flew to his hand for a moment, realizing that his wounds were starting to close up. Still, the thought that he had done such a thing because of her made her stomach roll nauseatingly. "I'm sorry. I'm just worried," she confessed.

His head turned to her quickly. "About what?"

"About the moment it comes down on you. What happened, I mean. It's not something you can shrug off, and I know that, so I'm afraid you're taking it harder than you let on." Her own honesty surprised her; it was slightly out of character of her to be so straight, to not tease a little, or to hold something back. But they didn't have much time before they arrived at the bar, and this was not a conversation that could be had in front of everyone.

"I think it already did," Castle whispered. His mind wandered to earlier that same afternoon, when he had broken down in front of his laptop once again. Thankfully, he'd been alone at the loft so he had been able to cry it out, to let it wash over him. He definitely felt better afterward. He didn't know how long it had been since he had cried before that, but it felt like a long, long time.

Kate didn't know what to say to that. She waited for him to continue. Wasn't Castle, usually so eager to share details of his life, going to share it with her? "What do you mean?"

"It hit me, for real, this afternoon. And I took care of it," he said, simply. "It's not like I don't feel it, Kate, I do. Hell, it's all I can think of, right now. But I don't really matter here, so all I can do is try to be there for you."

A heavy silence settled between them, lingering until Beckett parked her car outside of the old bar. She turned the engine off, but neither of them moved, the weight of his words sinking into their minds.

"Thank you," she whispered when she could finally form words. "I know that you would have been here when it happened, if I wanted. I know you would have crossed the country if I had allowed them to tell you."

"I would have," he confirmed.

"I'm sorry that I took that 'knight in shining armor' moment from you," she said half-jokingly, and Castle chuckled. The pressure of the conversation eased slightly and Kate finally found it in herself to turn her head and look at him. "I'm glad you're here, now."

"I'm glad I'm here, too," he said. "Though I was kind of hoping you would have changed cars by now. This seat is still as uncomfortable as it was before I left."

"Shut up, Castle." She ordered with a smile and they got out of the car, meeting their friends halfway to the entrance. Jenny was waiting for them and Ryan kissed her sweetly before they all walked down the stairs.

* * *

><p>The night was going great. It was like they were all reveling on the fact that they were together again, all of them, in the bar that had become so iconic to the people of the 12th. The moment was sacred, and as they all drank their beers and sodas, they talked about nonsense, sports, the news or the pending wedding of a certain medical examiner to a certain detective. Castle wasn't aware of the fact that they were getting married; those ties, although independent from Beckett, had also been severed when he went away mostly by his own will. He was surprised, however, when Lanie and Esposito traded significant looks and the ME cleared her throat.<p>

"Castle, we'd like you to come to our wedding," she said, and he smiled widely. "I'm sorry I don't have a formal invitation or that we didn't invite you before, but we thought you'd be in California, and..."

"What are you talking about?" Castle asked with a smile. "I'm just glad I get to go!" he said excitedly, and turned to Kate with a smile. "Are you wearing something low cut, Detective?"

Smiling at the fact that his flirtatious self was back, she looked down at her bourbon. "In your dreams, Castle."

He was unstoppable. "In my dreams, actually, you're usually wearing a very tiny, very tight black dress with a neck line that goes..."

"Okay, stop!" she ordered, trying not to laugh. The alcohol was doing nothing to help her keep her control. She wasn't drunk, not by any means, but she was more relaxed than usual and it showed. Castle seemed to be suffering from the same ailment, his goofy features alternating between staring at her and smiling excitedly at the couple that was yet to marry.

Kate pushed her drink away from her in an effort to stop drinking it. She still had to pay a visit to her father, she had a couple of medications she wanted to bring him, plus a book he had asked for from the book shop, so she planned to drop by after she left the bar. Having her father smell alcohol on her breath wasn't really an option, so she steered away from the heavy stuff.

Castle seemed to notice this change in demeanor and slid closer to her in the booth they were all sharing. "You putting a stop on the alcohol, Detective?"

"I have to go see my dad after I leave. Don't want him to smell the alcohol on me." Castle nodded and pushed his drink forwards as well. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"How is he? I should call him sometime," he said, absently. Kate wondered why the man in front of her would like to talk to her father. She took a moment to consider this sudden interest. Castle didn't even know Jim Beckett.

"You don't even know him. Why would you call him?"

"That," he started, looking down at his hands. Kate didn't know that he and her father had met during the investigation of her mother's murder. She didn't know the two men had sat down and talked about her for hours, trading secrets and episodes from their lives, sharing information about her. "I kind of... already know your father."

Kate's stomach dropped. How could she not know this? "Say what?" Realizing Lanie and Esposito were distracted watching the strange dance steps Ryan and Jenny were performing on the dance floor, she spoke again. "How do you know my father, Castle?"

The writer sighed. "He came to see me at the loft when we were in the middle of your mother's murder investigation. After you said we were through." A pang of sadness invaded them both, and they looked away at the same time. "He asked me to look out for you. We talked for a bit, that's all. I was always sorry I didn't keep in touch with him, but I figured it was for the best."

"I had no idea," Kate whispered after a moment. Grabbing her coat from beside her on the couch, she started to leave. Castle's eyes lowered to his drink and his hand shot out to gather the glass between his fingers. The Detective realized he looked sad, defeated, as if he had interpreted her readiness to leave as anger for his and her father's somewhat clandestine meeting. It didn't take a second before her hand was on his arm and his eyes were back on hers.

"Are you coming?" she asked, trying not to smile at the satisfied expression that filled his features. Sometimes, beneath the more adult front he seemed to have acquired during his days in sunny California, she could still see the man-child she had cherished, and it gave her an unexpected sense of comfort.

"Sure," he replied, getting up from the couch as well and allowing Beckett to exit the booth. Lanie looked at them questioningly, and Beckett leaned forward to be able to talk to the medical examiner without yelling above the music.

"Where are you lovebirds going?" the ME asked, and Kate rolled her eyes.

"I'm going to see my dad, and drop Castle off at home," she said. Lanie shot her a mischievous smile. Shaking her head amusingly, the Detective waved at the boys and moved to the exit of the bar followed quickly by her human shadow.

* * *

><p>"Dad?" Kate called, peeking into the apartment Jim Beckett owned on the Upper West Side. "You've got company."<p>

Castle was standing right behind her, his hands locked together as his fingers twiddled anxiously. He wasn't nervous, no. He was just... wary of the moment that was to come. He knew Jim Beckett had asked him to take care of Kate, and what had he done? He'd left. He couldn't imagine the old man would be happy to see him. In fact, Castle wondered why the hell he had given Kate the impression that he wanted to come here with her. He would have been better off drinking at the bar instead of being shot to death by a very angry older Beckett.

Kate opened the door and walked into the house at the same time Jim appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, taking off black apron. "Katie!" he exclaimed as he pulled his daughter into a long hug. Castle watched, half hidden by the shadows of the hallway, as the Detective ran her hands up and down her father's back. Alexis did the same thing to him when she wanted to show him how much she loved her dad. Seeing the usually controlled woman fall into the loving arms of her father was endearing and Castle found himself smiling.

When Jim pulled back from the hug, he looked behind Kate to see who was with her, his eyes stopping on Castle's. The writer was unable to tell what was going through the mind of the man in front of him; he seemed to have a poker face as good as his daughter's, so he did what he could. Taking a step forward, he offered his hand to the older man.

"How are you doing?" Castle greeted and Jim's features changed from blank into a somewhat amused expression, while Kate's eyes shifted from Castle to her father and back again as if she were watching a tennis match.

"I'm okay, Mr. Castle," Jim said in a conspiratorial tone. Castle managed to smile.

"It's alright, Jim," he informed the other man. "I already told Kate that we'd met before."

Jim Beckett sighed in relief. "Good, good. I'm glad that's out in the open. She didn't try to shoot you, did she?" he asked amusingly, looking down at his daughter. Kate rolled her eyes, and he laughed softly. "Well, Rick, come inside. I just made this cornmeal cake, it's a brazilian recipe. It's delicious." The older man turned away from them and stepped into the kitchen. Castle and Kate were left in the hallway and the Detective took off her coat and gloves, hanging them by the door. Castle did the same, trying to compose his expression before he turned around to face the younger Beckett.

It was strange to see her as someone who was being taken care of instead of the person in charge. Castle could see that, despite Jim's problems with alcohol in the past and his recent disease, he was still pretty much the father figure, the kind and loving shelter that he thought was missing from the Detective's life.

When he turned, he was met by her eyes, the tenderness from seeing her father still not completely dissolved. "We got closer," she whispered, and Castle struggled to understand what she meant.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you – "

"My dad and I" she explained "We got closer after he was diagnosed. It was silly, but it was like we each needed to know that the other was alright. It faded out with time, that constant need to be around each other, to take care of each other, but I do feel closer to him now than I felt a couple of years ago."

"I'm glad you have that kind of support," he said.

Jim poked his head out of the kitchen. "You kids coming? I'm making some tea, as well." he invited, and Kate offered Castle a smile before she turned around and walked to her father. The writer followed her footsteps and a minute later they were all sitting at the kitchen table, talking and laughing.

* * *

><p>They had gone through multiple conversation topics, the three of them almost giddy. Castle took a moment to look at the woman sitting across from him at the table, studying the way she laughed and leaned into her father's shoulder when it became too much. He wasn't used to seeing her that joyful, that light, especially after he had come back from California. He wondered if she was truly feeling like that, or if she was just putting up a front so that her father wouldn't worry — and somehow he was sure that it was real. Her smile was real, the soft laugh lines around her eyes were real as could be, and the way she was wrinkling her nose when she was embarrassed was one of the most adorable things Castle had ever seen. Even after all the pain, all the heartache, she was still the extraordinary woman he had learned to love.<p>

Kate excused herself to go to the bathroom. Jim and Castle ended up together at the table, sipping their respective teas and smiling a little awkwardly at each other. When they heard the bathroom door close with the Detective inside Jim looked up from his hands, his eyes meeting Castle's with an honesty he had not yet seen in the man in front of him.

"Now that she can't hear us, there's something I need you to know, Rick," he started, and Castle nodded. "Katie told me that you left because of your daughter, that she was having trouble adapting and you went up there to help her out. I never judged you because I'm a father, too, and I would have done the exact same thing for my Katie if she had ever needed it."

"I'm glad you understand, Jim."

"I do, honestly. But, that said, I want you to be very, very careful from now on," he explained, his fingers gripping the mug more forcefully, as if he was trying to contain his thoughts. Castle wondered if the man in front of him really did understand, or if this was just his protective instinct rising. "When you came back a couple of weeks ago, I saw Katie smile for the first time in months. Hell, it was the first time since that horrible attack that she didn't have that dark cloud hanging over her head." Jim swallowed hard and Castle could tell that he had trouble speaking about what had happened to his daughter months before. After a deep breath, Jim continued. "I can't have her break down again, Rick, and she will if you leave her again. I need you to be sure this time. I need to know that you won't leave her after a week or a month."

It was Castle's turn to swallow hard. His first instinct was to look away, but he forced his eyes to stay on those of the man in front of him as he spoke. "Jim, we're not together now. I'm back to following her at her job, and we're friends, that's all. Do I want her back the way we were before? Of course I do. But I'm leaving it up to her, and going at her pace." Jim's eyes lowered to the table, his hand flicking a small crumb of cake that was left on the wooden surface. Castle continued. "I can't promise it'll last forever, even if we just stay friends. I can't promise one of us won't make mistakes. All I can tell you is that I learned from what I did in the past, and even though I don't regret putting my daughter first, I do regret the way I handled it. And now... " Castle sighed. "Now it's up to time to heal whatever can be healed."

"Fair enough," Jim said with a soft smile, and Castle felt himself exhale the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "All I ask of you is that you consider her, and that you be careful not to hurt her. Katie's been through so much already."

"I know, sir." It was all he could say. "I wish I could have been here for her."

Luckily, before the air could thicken between the two men, Kate made her way out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. She placed her hands on the back of her chair, leaning forward slightly to look at her father.

"We need to go. I've got to be at the precinct early tomorrow morning," she said with a smile. Castle got up to accompany her. Jim sighed, saddened to see his daughter go, but got up from the chair as well, following the two of them into the living room and to the door of his apartment.

Kate turned around and hugged her father tightly. Castle, feeling slightly like an intruder, looked away and didn't turn his face to them until Jim and Kate parted a second after, and the man extended his hand to him.

"It was a pleasure having you here, Rick."

"It was a pleasure coming here, Jim," he replied, gallantly, and Kate rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the cake, it was epic!" He smiled like a child and Jim shood his head amusingly as his daughter pushed the writer out of his apartment and directed him to the elevator at the end of the hallway. Jim stood silently by the door, hoping to go unnoticed as Kate and Rick waited for the car to reach their floor. He watched as Castle's hand rested on her back, almost as an afterthought, and how Kate didn't shrug it away. He grinned when he saw that Kate was looking up at Castle, smiling the most luminous smile he'd seen in months. The writer smiled back at her and they made their separate ways into the elevator, leaving an enchanted Jim behind them.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'm doing my best to update more regularly, so I'm expecting to give you more reading material by the weekend. In the meantime, and in case some of you are interested in photography/art, I am now starting a 100 Days of Summer project (one photo a day for the next hundred days), and the link is in my profile, as well as my tumblr. Take a look!_

_Thank you so much to all of you who review; your words make me so very happy! Thank you for taking the time to read and to say something, it really does mean a lot, and I do my best to reply to all of you. I hope you keep talking to me the way you have — we just passed the 100 reviews and I couldn't be happier!_

_Again, many thanks to K for the beta work! _


	10. Ten

**X.**

* * *

><p>Kate Beckett watched as the writer made his way across the bullpen, his eyes cast on the floor, lost in thought. She waited patiently for him to sit down beside her, placing her coffee and his own on the table before them and sighing. Kate did her best not to roll her eyes at how childishly obvious the whole scene was. It was like he was begging to be asked what was wrong.<p>

"What, Castle?" she caved after a couple of seconds, not looking up from the paperwork she had in front of her. Beckett lifted her eyes to meet his and what she saw in them wasn't concern or distress, just that nagging curiosity that she knew could drive him insane. He shrugged like a little boy, and she sighed.

Almost a month had passed since he had come back to follow her, and Christmas was getting closer and closer. Kate had learned to recognize this look on him, especially during the past few days when he'd come into the precinct looking like a little lost dog more than once. She could tell what it was about.

"Alright, whose gift are you doubting now?" she asked, and Castle smiled softly. It was their routine: he'd come in looking lost, she'd ask what was going on and they'd brainstorm, try to figure out a better present. Sometimes she just assured him that the present in question was alright: a new laptop for Alexis; a faux-fur coat for his mother. Kate placed her pen down on the table and rested her chin on her folded hands as she waited for the problem to be laid out for her.

"You know Alexis' boyfriend, James?" he asked. Kate had heard about him. She knew that there was no Ashley anymore. That had been one of the reasons Castle had to move to California, and now she kept hearing about this boy Alexis met at NYU.

"Sure. What about him?" she replied.

"He's a Lit major, and Alexis had bought him this beautiful edition of a Henry Miller triology, but yesterday she realized that he had two of them in that exact same edition. So now she's panicking. She doesn't know what to give him, and I can't find an earlier copy to save my life." He sighed again, and Kate smiled. For once, she had just the right solution.

"Alright. Tell Alexis to meet us for lunch, we're taking her to Marco and Gia's," Kate ordered, and Castle's smile widened on his face. He still hadn't gone back to the place after his second run-in there with Beckett, but he knew that she had. He was also aware that the bookshop was one of her sacred places, so for her to want to take his daughter there was a considerable step.

During that month they had managed to fall back into that comfortable companionship they had before. The tension was still there, the same chemistry as before, but neither of them was making an effort to move forward or to change their status at all. Castle had a feeling Beckett needed time to adjust, to forgive him, and Kate was sure it wasn't the right time to jump into anything. A month meant nothing, and she kept telling herself that no, she wasn't in love with him again.

Kate watched as Castle texted his daughter. She wondered for a moment if that was the right move, if she should take the two Castles to her safe haven. She pushed this thought aside quickly, reminding herself of the fact that she would be doing Marco and Gia a favor, and that she really wanted to see Alexis after all that time. They still hadn't seen each other ever since the family had come back to New York.

* * *

><p>They met just outside of Remy's and Kate couldn't help but smile as she saw the beautiful red head walking towards them. Though Alexis had changed, there was still that spark in her, that childish glow, but she was all but a grown woman. She walked differently, moved more confidently, her stride filled with the couple of years of wisdom that she had acquired since their last meeting.<p>

Her joyous smile appeared as soon as she saw Castle, and she leaned in to kiss his cheek. "Hey dad." she whispered, and Kate smiled at her. Alexis didn't touch her at first. She took a step back and paused, looking at the Detective's features with a cautious expression, making Kate feel scrutinized. She wondered what the girl was thinking, but not a second later, Alexis arms were around her shoulders. "I'm so happy to see you, Detective Beckett." she whispered, and Kate brought her hands up to the girl's back, almost as an afterthought. The girl's embrace was comforting, like a hug from a little child who was just innocently happy to see her.

"I'm happy to see you too, Alexis." They pulled away from their embrace somewhat awkwardly and motioned to the door of the restaurant. They sat at their usual booth, Castle and Alexis on one side and Kate on the other, and ordered their usual burgers, fries and milkshakes. The food was so good it was almost sinful, and the moment it made its way to their table, they ate silently, each enjoying their dish.

"You'll die when you see the place Kate wants to take you to," Castle said excitedly as Alexis dug into her burger. "It's like heaven, only Italian."

The red head laughed softly when she saw the Detective roll her eyes. "Is it where the two of you met again?" she asked, and Kate looked at Castle with a cocked eyebrow. She had no idea that he'd told Alexis about their meet at the bookshop. The girl, on the other hand, seemed to realize that she had said too much and quickly dipped a couple of fries into the sauce, filling her mouth with them.

"Hm, yeah." Castle said, awkwardly. "That's where I bought your grandmother's book." he explained, and got up from the table. "Excuse me, ladies, I need to... go. I'll be right back." He moved swiftly toward the bathroom, leaving a stunned Kate behind him, and a slightly embarrassed Alexis keeping her company.

As soon as she saw her father leave the table, Alexis straightened her back and looked at the detective in front of her. The look on Kate's face had gone from curious to amused, which lead the girl to believe that she had an opening.

"Detective, can I tell you something?"

Kate smiled. "If you manage to start calling me Kate, then sure, go ahead."

"Alright, _Kate._"Alexis laughed softly. "When my dad came back home from buying that book for Grams, he was different, like he wasn't the same man who had left the house earlier that afternoon."

"What do you mean?" The girl's speech had Kate interested. She had an idea of where the writer's daughter was going with the conversation, but she found herself enthralled by her words. The girl seemed to take after her father when it came to eloquence.

Alexis sighed before she started to answer and Kate saw the shadow of guilt cross her expression. "Dad moved to California because of me, Kate. A lot happened in the couple of months I stayed there without him — my break up with Ashley, my mother being the reckless self she's always been when she was supposed to look out for me. But there was something else, someone else. This guy I went out with after Ashley, I thought he was great and kind, but then he started to pressure me to..." Alexis swallowed hard and Kate held her breath. She was dreading the end of that sentence and she said a silent prayer for the girl's fate to be different from her own. "You know. I didn't cave, thank goodness, and I broke up with him."

Kate sighed in relief, allowing her forehead to rest on her hands. Her demeanor made Alexis stop talking, her eyes growing concerned. "Are you okay?" the girl asked.

"Yes," she croaked, and cleared her throat so the sound would come out more evenly. "Yes, I am, Alexis. But I'm not sure of what you mean by –"

"He started to threaten me," Alexis explained. "That boy, Dylan, he started to threaten to take me away with him, to have his way with me. I knew the threats were stupid and that he couldn't get to me with the security my Dad had hired. As soon as I called campus security with the threats they expelled him, so I knew I was safe. But Dad freaked out. You know him, he couldn't stay away."

Alexis seemed to notice the weight her words had on the woman in front of her. She gave Kate a moment to let them sink in, for the speech to make sense.

Kate felt the cold pang of guilt fill her senses after hearing what Alexis had to say. She had judged him so much, thinking that he had taken that move as a way to push her away, to let her know that she was unimportant, that now all she could feel was guilt. His need to be with her daughter had always been one of the traits that she had loved the most about that man, and she had spent the better part of the past two years judging him for it.

"He never told me that, Alexis," she managed to whisper, and the young woman's hand snaked across the table to land on top of her own. Kate turned her hand around and allowed her fingers to touch the palm of the girl's hand.

"I know. That's why I did. And that's why I'm telling you now that he was miserable. I felt so guilty for almost two years because he was so incredibly unhappy there. He tried to put up a front, to hide it from me, but I knew he hated it. That's why I transferred back here," she informed the Detective. Kate's eyes left the table and connected with the girl's.

"Why are you telling me now?"

"Because he's better now," the red head explained, exasperation leaking into her tone. "He's been better for the past month, and I think it shouldn't take much for you to realize that this time frame coincides with your presence in his life."

Kate would have spoken up, but when she looked above the girl's shoulder she realized that Castle was making his way to the table again. She managed to smile at the girl before she whispered a 'thank you' and leaned back into her seat, picking up her wallet.

"No, no, Detective, don't even think about it," Castle protested, but Kate got up anyway, raising her eyebrow.

"No. This one's on me, I invited you two," she said with what she could muster of a smile, and made her way to the counter. She needed the space and the time to let what she had just learned sink into her spirit.

This was so much more than she knew before. This conversation, the knowledge of the events that made Castle leave so hastily changed a lot of things, as well as Alexis' comprehension of their relationship and their back-and-forth emotional status. She knew the girl was very perceptive, but she had no idea that Castle confided in her.

The novelty of their situation had her heart softening a bit for the writer. She turned around after she had paid to see him opening his daughter's coat for her and leaning in to give her a kiss on the forehead. Alexis put her arms around his torso and moved them up and down on his back, much like Kate did with her own father. That thought warmed her heart and made it flutter slightly. When Castle's eyes met hers, she couldn't help the smile that spread slowly on her face.

The three of them walked to the bookstore, sharing stories and anecdotes of their time apart. Kate was quiet, eerily so for Castle, so he nudged her with his shoulder when he realized that Alexis was distracted.

"Hey," he whispered. "You okay?"

Kate smiled softly. She still couldn't quite place her emotions, but she didn't want him to be aware of her struggle. Not yet. "Yeah. I just can't wait for Marco and Gia to meet Alexis. I have a feeling they'll love her."

"Who wouldn't love her, though?" Castle smiled proudly, before he added. "Thanks, Kate. For helping her out with this, I mean."

She shrugged as they reached their destination. "Anytime."

* * *

><p>Alexis' mouth hung open from the moment they entered the bookstore. She looked at the shelves, at the endless amount of books that were stacked everywhere. She barely noticed as the Italian couple made their way from behind the counter to hug Kate.<p>

"_Caterina_, how are you?" Gia asked as she kissed her enthusiastically on both cheeks. Kate smiled, feeling her mind start to ease simply from being there. Castle stood by her side while she greeted the couple and when they were done she took a step closer to him.

"Gia, Marco, this is Richard Castle." Marco's eyes opened widely.

"Wait, the novelist?"

Kate nodded, trying not to laugh. "Yes, and he's also my partner at the force."

Castle extended his hand to the old man, who shook it vigorously. "It's a pleasure, sir. Even though we've met before," he added with a smile and turned to Gia. "And you, ma'am, thank you for the tea the other day."

Gia blushed furiously when Castle lowered his head and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. Kate half expected the Italian woman to fan herself after this show of gallantry from the writer. She thought the moment was right to introduce Alexis, who was still in the same place as before, her eyes scanning the place.

"And this is Alexis, his daughter," she introduced, and the young woman finally snapped out of her daze, smiling widely.

"This is incredible," was all she could say, before she turned her back on them again and walked towards the corridors of books.

Marco directed Kate and Castle to the living room, and Gia sat on the sofa in front of them. The snow that was falling outside contrasted with the warmth from the fire, and the two of them were happy to feel the comfort and the joy of being in that place. It was like nothing could get to them as long as they stayed there.

A few minutes after they sat down, Marco showed up with tea and biscuits, sitting beside Gia and serving them all. Castle got up from his seat to fetch Alexis, who was still running around the maze of books, which left Kate alone with the old couple. As soon as the writer was out of earshot, the older woman spoke.

"So he's your new boyfriend?" she asked, and Kate almost spit out her tea.

"Whoa. Gia. No," she stuttered, placing the cup of tea on the table to avoid spilling.

"But you want him to be." Gia and now Marco eyed her suspiciously.

"No!" she replied with as much vehemence as she could muster, but it wasn't much. The fact was, she had been resisting the thought of being with him simply because she thought he had been reckless to leave her behind. Now, knowing the entire story, she realized there was very little standing between herself and him. "I mean, it's complicated. It's a long story."

"There's nothing complicated about it, _bella_. I see the way he looks at you, he's head over heels. You just have to let him love you," Marco said, and Kate was ready to reply with the same excuse as before when she saw Alexis and Castle returning to the table. They sat down and the Detective noticed the glow on the girl's features, as if she'd found her place. She smiled as well, recalling her first time at the bookstore and remembering that she had felt the exact same thing.

"I'm sorry if I appeared rude before," Alexis explained as she sat down. "I'd just never seen a place like this. It's amazing," she whispered, blushing slightly. Marco and Gia smiled widely at her, and Kate was sure she could feel the same kind of warmth, of acceptance she felt whenever she was at Alla Luce. She made a quick wish for the girl to see this as her own place of solace, of comfort, much like Kate did.

"So, Lex," Castle started, "you need the Rosy Crucifixion, right?"

"Yeah. The earliest edition you can get," she explained. Marco placed the cup on the table. He moved his hands over his knees, as if he was searching for the book in his internal catalogue.

"I have a collector's edition that came out a year after Nexus. Let me see if I can find it for you," Marco informed them, and he rose from the couch to get it. The four of them stayed behind, talking to Gia about everything and nothing, laughing when they heard stories of strange and awkward customers and the adventures of Michael trying to paint the shop. Gia included herself in the group as if she was a wise grandmother, and while she was the virtual opposite of Martha — quiet and simple and not at all dramatic - Alexis liked the woman as if she was in fact family. It wasn't usual for her to allow people into her life that quickly, but that place seemed to have that feeling about itself. It was so comfortable that it was impossible for the people there not to be just as cozy.

Kate's phone rang and she dug into her pocket to retrieve it. When she saw the caller ID reveal that it was Esposito calling, she got up from the couch, walking to the more secluded part of the room. "I'm sorry, I have to get this. It's the station," she whispered before she got out of earshot.

Marco came back and Alexis moved to the counter with him to pay for the book, but Castle barely noticed. His eyes were cast on the Detective who had stopped mid-track as she heard something from the other end of the line. Castle knew the signs. He knew, as her body tensed, that the news weren't good; he knew, by the way her hand opened and closed quickly, that she was trying to ease off her own reaction to unexpected information. With a few 'hums' and silent nods, Kate turned off the phone but didn't turn around to face the room. She stood very still, the room turning eerily quiet at her lack of motion. Castle got on his feet and before he could take a breath he was on her side, his hand reaching for her back. When his fingers touched the back of her coat, she turned around quickly, tensing. He didn't expect her to pull back from his touch, but he had placed his hand on her unannounced, and if Beckett had been jumpy before, now she was nearly paranoid. She seemed to notice his distress as her eyes met his, and he saw something he'd never seen in them: a flash of pure, unadulterated terror. Castle fought the instinct to wrap his arms around her, locking his eyes with hers instead. When he was finally able to speak, his voice was shaky.

"What happened, Beckett?"

She swallowed hard before she spoke. Her voice was steady and calm, but her features revealed a level of fear he had never seen in her, always so strong and brave. "There's been a riot at Rikers, and a fire. A couple of prisoners escaped."

He knew what that statement, coupled with her expression, truly mean even before she dared say it.

"They're saying Sallinger might be one of them."

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_What about that one, huh? I'm evil. I know. Mwahaha._

_No, seriously. I wanted to apologize for the delay on the posting of this chapter; there was an email malfunction between mine and my beta reader's accounts, so while she thought she'd sent me this last weekend, I hadn't received anything. So I just got it, and now I'm sharing it with you. And from now on, even if I'm not able to give you two chapters per week, I'll do my best to give you at least one. This is one of those times when I'd love to be a native english speaker; I wouldn't depend on someone (however fabulous she is!) to know when I can give you an update. But that's life, and whoever's upstairs put me in this abandoned little corner of Europe. Alas._

_About the Rosy Crucifixion, I only own Nexus, and I have only read small bits of it. The reason I included it is kind of connected to my obsession with Anaïs Nin, and since I thought she'd be too girly for the 'lit major boyfriend', I went with Miller. Don't kill me, you smart people._

_Thank you so, so much for the support you're giving me and this story. As a non-native writer, I am constantly second-guessing myself when it comes to writing fic like this, so your words are usually what keeps me going. Thank you, thank you, thank you. _

_Now, go on and review? I'd love to know what you think about this one! OH, and if you'd like, you can follow me on tumblr! the link is in my profile!_


	11. Eleven

XI.

* * *

><p>The three of them took a cab to the precinct, thinking that it would be the fastest way there. They could have walked the twelve blocks that separated them from the 12th, but the look on Beckett's face told Castle that she needed to be reunited with her team right that minute. He'd seen her scared; he'd seen her expression when she didn't think she'd survive a nuclear explosion, he'd seen — and felt — her face when she thought she was about to die curled up against him in a freezer. Still, he had never seen her look like she did now. There was something about the way her eyes moved restlessly, how her fingers stretched and flexed incessantly that told him that she was very much like a terrified animal, ready to jump on anyone who might cross her path.<p>

"We should drop Alexis off at home," Beckett offered. Castle was surprised to hear her voice, a tiny stream of sound. He had to take a couple of seconds to rebuild her sentence in his brain in a way that made sense; he'd barely heard the completeness of her words.

Alexis, however, seemed to understand what she had said and had leaned forward, looking at the detective. "I'd like to come with you," she whispered, and when Beckett's face turned towards the young woman, she blushed softly. "I don't want to be alone at home," she explained. "I have my school books with me, I can study there. I won't be in your way," she promised. Castle took his daughter's small hand, tenderly rubbing the back of it. Still seemingly out of it, Beckett smiled and whispered an 'okay' that had Castle more concerned that he would have been if she hadn't said anything.

They arrived at the precinct and rode up the elevator in silence. As soon as the doors slid open, the three of them took in the ruckus that had taken over the bullpen. All the detectives and beat cops were there. As she walked to her desk, Kate noticed that a handful of them were gathered around a television that was supplying the station with current information and imaging; Velasquez and Karpowski were huddled near to the intercom station, carefully listening to any activity and reporting it out loud to the room. People moved back and forth, looking lost, surprised, concerned. When Beckett approached her desk, there was a moment of silence in the room, as they all stopped and looked at her.

Castle stopped a couple of steps away from her and noticed the second of silence that formed itself after the Detective's entrance. It only took a moment; the precinct was back, working in full force, just as she leaned against her desk. He could see it in the way she moved, though. The pitying looks she had described to him were there, and they were all worried for her. Castle knew — and he knew that she was aware of it as well — that their hearts were in the right place, but her pride couldn't abide it.

The writer turned to his daughter, who was standing behind him, her face pale and her mouth hanging open. She'd never seen the precinct in such a state of hurry, and she didn't seem to take it too well. Castle placed his hand on her shoulder and directed her to the break room, where the red head sat at the table, placing her hands on the table in front of her. He could almost see the wheels turning in her brain. He'd told her that Kate had been attacked, but hadn't mentioned the kind of abuse she'd been subject to. Still, he felt the need to explain the situation to his daughter, even if it was just to assess the level of panic she was in at the moment.

"Honey, do you know what's going on right now? Do you understand it?" He spoke as if he was talking to a small child, and he knew she'd hate it, but he had a feeling that this would be the only way he'd get her to react.

She nodded. "The guy who abused Detec —" she sighed, as if annoyed with herself. "Who abused Kate escaped from prison. That's why everyone's going crazy out there, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is. That's my girl," Castle whispered, touching her face as sweetly as he could. "You stay here, okay? We'll be around, but if you need me just text me or something. I don't want you in the middle of that mess out there."

"Dad, I'm not ten. I'm an adult," she said, looking him straight in the eyes. For Castle, it was like she had grown ten years older, right in front of his eyes. The seemingly fragile girl who had entered the break room of the precinct had now turned into a woman. Even in the face of that subtle transformation, Castle wanted to keep her in there, to protect her. He didn't want Alexis to witness the fear in Beckett's face, and her demeanor. He didn't want his girl to be caught in the middle of an investigation; with this kind of case, there was nothing glamorous about it, it was just tracking and calling and profiling.

Profiling. That reminded him of something they needed to do. Getting on his feet, he placed a kiss on top of Alexis' head, muttered a soft, "I love you," and left the room. He walked briskly across the bullpen until he reached Beckett's desk.

"We need to call Jordan," he said, out of breath, and she looked up from her place at the desk. For a moment, he saw the sparkle he'd seen before they'd been interrupted by the news of the riot.

"Sure. Right away." Kate met his eyes with her own and brought her hand up to the side of her head. "Let's see if I can make her appear right..." she snapped her fingers and the elevator doors dinged open, showing the elegant redheaded woman standing between two men. "Now," Kate finished.

"Uncanny," Castle whispered, mesmerized. He watched as Special Agent Jordan Shaw made her way across the bullpen, moving directly to Captain Henderson's office, accompanied by her partner, Special Agent Avery. The door was open and they didn't wait for an invitation. Jordan closed the door behind her, and both Castle and Beckett watched through the blinds as the people in the office spoke.

* * *

><p>Terror didn't begin to explain the sensation that had settled in Kate's stomach ever since she'd gotten the phone call at the book store. It was like a panic attack, only without a peak or the wave-like feeling that usually characterized that kind of episode. It was more a steady, constant stream of panic coursing through her body. She could feel her fingers tingling, that coldness creeping up the back of her neck, a heightened ability to focus on the details around her and not on the big picture.<p>

She needed to be professional, to work her way through the meanders of this case, of the pursuit of the man who had destroyed a significant part of her. It was her job, and her obligation; she wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that he was out there, that he could come and repeat his feat. She wouldn't be able to rest knowing that those hands, the fingers that had left marks on her thighs for weeks, could be tearing other women apart. No. That was more than she could take. Kate could deal with her own pain; it was everyone else's that she couldn't take.

She watched as Castle directed Alexis to the break room, and picked up her phone to make the one call she knew was essential. After a couple of rings, she heard the familiar crisp voice on the other side of the line. "Shaw."

"Jordan, it's Kate," she said. "I don't know if you're aware of what's happening at Rikers —

"I'm on my way. Your Captain called me twenty minutes ago, told me to come in. Avery just filled me in." She heard the a rustle on the other side of the line, as if Jordan was exiting her car. "I'm out here, I'll be up there in a minute."

"Thanks," Kate said before she hung up.

Not even a minute after that, Castle made a beeline to her desk, speaking fast, almost excitedly. He wanted her to call Jordan. Right. He was two minutes too late.

Right after the two FBI Agents walked into Captain Henderson's office, she turned to Castle, regarding him as he watched the conversation in the other room, intently. It was somewhat of a comfort, his presence. He managed to take her mind away from the seriousness of the situation, to look at the bright side. Hadn't he always done that? Part of her knew that the reason she had missed him so much when everything had happened, was because she seemed to be unable to see the light at the end of the tunnel; after working with him for so long she had learned to rely on him for that kind of comfort.

"How's Alexis?" Kate asked, trying to get his attention away from the Captain's office. She knew that if he was caught trying to snoop, they'd have to deal with an incredibly moody Captain for the rest of the day, to say the least. It seemed to work, her distraction method; Castle slid away from her desk and sat in his chair, now turned towards the detective.

"She's alright, I think. She'll be studying, she won't get in your way."

"I'm not worried about that," she clarified. "And I know you feel safer when you have her around where you can see her, so I'm glad she could stay."

"Thanks," he whispered, his eyes not leaving hers. Kate's heart started to race, even more than it was before, and for a second, that feeling of panic was replaced by a sense of security. She had no idea of how he did it, but he could manage to make her feel safer just by locking his eyes with her.

The conversation she'd had with Alexis over lunch was still burning in the back of her mind. It changed things to an almost drastic point; it had somehow made her want to be closer to Castle, to give herself away again. The transition hadn't been sudden, no — during the last month, she had gradually started to accept the attention from him, the soft touches on her back when they were entering the elevator and the way their hands brushed against each other more times than necessary, when they were walking down the street. Still, the rational part of her thought that she shouldn't give in — a month wasn't enough to prove that he was here for good, that he didn't have any intention of running off on her again — but her heart? That one told her to throw herself at him at the first possible opportunity.

Coupled with her mixed feelings toward Castle was the slight panic that overcame her senses every time she thought about Sallinger being out in the open. It was a deep, cold sensation in the back of her neck, together with the slight trembling of her fingers and the feeling that her entire body was numb. She knew it well, and she needed to find a source of distraction.

Her request was filled when she saw the door to Captain Henderson's office open, and both Jordan and Agent Avery walked out. They split up and Kate watched as Avery called in the order to set up the war room at the precinct. When her eyes turned to the female agent, she realized Jordan was walking up to them with a humorous smile on her face.

"So the writer boy is back," she said, and both Castle and Beckett rose from their chairs. Castle smiled at the FBI Agent, whose eyes didn't leave Kate's.

"It's a pleasure to see you again, Agent Shaw," Castle said, and Jordan smiled.

"Yeah, it's a shame it has to be over this scumbag, though," she said mindlessly, and turned to the NYPD Detective. "Kate, can I have a word with you?" Her eyes darted over to Castle for a second. "In private."

Kate nodded and Castle caught her hint, moving away from the desk. "I should go check on Alexis, she's stilll... yeah," he whispered awkwardly when he realized none of them were paying attention to him. "I'll just go."

He walked to the hallway that connected the bullpen and the break room and looked back, stunned to see Jordan Shaw sit in his chair and place her chin on her closes fist. Kate leaned forward and they talked quietly, with a strange air of domesticity that made the writer freeze in his place. He was glad Kate had found a friend in Agent Shaw, but at the same time he wished he was the one providing her with that comfort.

Jordan sat on Castle's chair, and for once it didn't bother Kate. The Detective leaned forward on the table as the FBI agent did as well, and the red head scrutinized her face. "How are you doing, Kate?" she asked, and Becket took a deep breath.

"Panicked, mostly. A couple of hours ago I was at the bookstore and life was nearly perfect, and now this nightmare is back," she explained softly. Jordan leaned back on the chair and crossed her hands on her lap, a knowing smile appearing on her features.

"Are you and Castle together?" she asked, bluntly, and Kate shrugged. She was so very tired of that question, but the truth was that she only person she wanted to tell the truth to was Shaw. She wouldn't make a scene like Lanie, she wouldn't pressure her to come forward with whatever it was that they had or would have in the future; Jordan Shaw was an excellent listener who, despite her initially cold demeanor, knew exactly what to say to make her feel better.

"No. I don't know. Not for now, I guess, but I think we both want to." Jordan nodded knowingly and Kate continued, sighing. "I don't know what I want. I know I want to be happy again, but I'm so terrified of what might happen with him, or if he leaves again, and now this fell on me and I don't really know what I'm feeling."

"Well, there's not much you can do, besides catching this fella' to put him back where he belongs, right?" Jordan shrugged. "One thing at a time, Kate. Sallinger now, Castle later. But in the meantime —

"What?"

"In the meantime you need to let him help you." Kate shrugged at Jordan's words, looking almost childish.

"I should be the one protecting him. And I don't know how to just let him in, I don't know that I can." Kate whispered, her eyes now finding her own hands and observing her entwined fingers intently.

"Yes you do, Detective," Jordan started, placing her hand on top of Kate's in order to tear her eyes away from them. "You just need to let him be around you. I know it isn't something you like to admit, but you'll need it. You need to let him be your strength."

Kate smiled softly and nodded, willing the moisture in her eyes to disappear. With a deep breath, the tears were gone and her fingers were gripping Jordan's, who was now smiling softly as well, as if she had been talking to a child.

"Now," the FBI agent started, "Avery must be done with the war room. Wanna bet your boy is already there, playing with the smart board?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Please tell me he can't install Angry Birds on that thing."

* * *

><p>The rest of the day went by almost imperceptibly to the entire team. Working in the war room the FBI had set up at the precinct, where the windows were shut and the doors almost always closed, stripped them of a visual indicator that the day had turned into night, and while they were all tired, none of them wanted to give up the search.<p>

The search was different from Dunn's case, this time. They knew who Sallinger was, they had his profile plastered on the data matrix at all times, but the goal now was to predict his moves. They had gone through several hypothesis as to where he could he hiding, all proving to be wrong, and their moods were going from cranky to nearly impossible.

Kate was sitting at a desk, her legs pulled up beneath her as she analyzed a few letters Sallinger had received while he was in prison. Her head was throbbing and her nerves were reaching a breaking point; she was exhausted both from the search and from fighting the panic attacks nearly every half hour. A part of her wanted to give in, to let the panic run over her and take her down, but she knew she couldn't. One show of weakness from her part and Sallinger would have an open window to attack.

Castle watched her from his seat across the desk. She was tense, he could tell by the look on her face and the way her neck contorted every time she moved her head. Looking down at his wrist watch, he realized it was nearly ten p.m. He had sent Alexis to Paige's place a few hours ago, accompanied by a security detail, thinking that she was probably safer if she wasn't with them at the moment. Now all he had to do was convince Beckett that it was time to call it a day.

He was surprised when he looked at Jordan and realized that she was staring at Beckett as well, a concerned look on her face. He had never known the somewhat distant FBI Agent to be as nurturing and sisterly as she was with Beckett, but it was a pleasant surprise. As if she knew Castle was looking at her, she moved her eyes to his and her hear motioned towards Kate, her eyebrows raised in interrogation.

Castle rose from his chair and walked across the room to talk to Shaw, who was standing in front of the smart board. Beckett didn't move, engrossed in her files, so he walked relaxedly but quickly to the redhead's side.

"Hey. Find anything?" she asked softly, and he shook his head.

"No. I don't think we will, tonight." Castle motioned his head towards Beckett just like Jordan had, seconds before. "She's exhausted."

The FBI Agent sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "She's not just exhausted, she's panicking, and it'll take over her if she doesn't get rest." She informed him, and Castle remained silent, waiting for her to continue. "I've seen her like this before, especially after the case. The panic attacks become stronger if she's tired, and right now she's bordering on one. Can you see it?" The duo turned discreetly to look at Kate, who had her eyes closed and was pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. Castle felt his heart sink in his chest — he wanted nothing more than to walk up to her and hold her close, help her ride the wave of terror until it was over — but he stood still in his place and looked at Jordan again.

"We need to call it a night. Not just because of her, for everybody. You look like shit, too," she added with a smile.

"So do it. You're the boss here, Agent Shaw."

Jordan turned to the room and spoke loudly, so everyone could hear. "People, it's ten o'clock, we're calling it a day. Go home, get some rest, come back tomorrow at eight so we can get back to work." The crowd at the war room, including Ryan and Esposito, began to exit the room. Kate, however, barely moved. She rose her head and stared at the table in front of her, the look on her face so lost that it make Castle's chest hurt again. He walked up to her, his mind determined about a decision he'd made earlier in the afternoon, and sat on the desk in front of her.

"Beckett," he called softly, and she broke out of her daze, her eyes rising up to meet his.

"Hm?"

"It's late. Jordan told us to go home," he explained, patiently but not condescendingly.

"I heard," she whispered, and brought her fingers up to touch her lips. Castle recognized the gesture as a nervous tick, but Beckett spoke up before he could say anything else. "I don't think I can go."

He knew what she meant instantly and the look in her eyes made him even more certain. Kate Beckett was afraid of going home, of being at her own place by herself while Sallinger was out in the streets. This notion made him even more certain of what he had to do.

"You're coming home with me," he informed her, and she brought her eyes up to meet his, shaking her head.

"No way, Castle."

"You are, Kate. You're staying in my place, I'm not leaving you alone for a second."

She was too tired to fight and the idea wasn't half bad, but at the same time she felt like she should be more guarded. That was when the conversation she'd had with Alexis came back to her mind, and she found herself nodding at his request and getting up from the chair. She got her things and the two of them walked towards the elevator, where he took her hand in his and she allowed her head to rest on his shoulder, suddenly remembering Jordan's words.

_You need to let him be your strength._

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_So the investigation begins! I have to confess that I am terrified of what you might think of my Jordan. Did I turn her into too much of a softie? The thing is, I watched 'Tick tick tick' and 'Boom' a few times before writing this chapter, and I just couldn't have her be cold like so many people describe her on fanfiction. I think that part where she's talking to her daughter is incredibly revealing as to how tender she can be — and that's what I think happened when Kate was first attacked by Sallinger: she sort of took our hardcore detective under her wing. She's like a protective big sister, and that's how I wanted her to come across. Did I fail miserably? You tell me._

_I should have more time to write from today on; I just finished a wedding I'd been working on for the past few weeks, so I'm free as a bird. Well, not completely, but at least I'm not on any deadlines, so I might be able to write more. If my fabulous K manages to keep up with me and my crappy writing, I might start giving you more than a chapter a week again._

_Thank you so very much for your support of this story. I noticed today I have close to 250 favs/alerts, and that completely made my day. Your confidence in this story is overwhelming, really. Keep talking to me, guys! I still reply to every review I get, even if I do it late, and I love discussing the story with my readers. I've actually taken a couple of ideas for details and such from the reviews and the talks I have with the bunch of you, so keep them coming!_

_Thanks for reading!_


	12. Twelve

**XII.**

* * *

><p>They arrived at his place and the security detail ordered by Jordan had already searched the floor, giving them green light to enter the loft and to lock the doors behind them. Kate placed her purse carefully on the chair beside the door and felt Castle's hand on her back nudge her inside, pulling her with him to the kitchen. He sat her down on one of the stools and placed both his hands on her shoulders, standing behind her and pulling her softly against his chest to kiss the top of her head.<p>

He knew she was only allowing his gestures because of her exhaustion, but he took the chance to revel in the smell of her hair, its softness, and the bony yet tender structure of her shoulders. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against her ear, not too close to avoid scaring her, but close enough so that she could feel the vibration of his words against her skin.

"You're safe here, Kate. I promise." he whispered and felt her nod. Castle placed a soft kiss on the side of her head and moved around the kicthen island, taking a bottle of red wine from its place at the display and opening it expertly. Kate watched as he moved around the kitchen to fetch them two wine glasses and pouring the red liquid into them.

"Thanks." she whispered as he extended the wine glass in her direction. "You didn't have to do this."

"No, but I want to." he smiled at her and she reciprocated the gesture, taking a sip from the wine and allowing it to dull her senses. "You're sleeping in my bed, I'll stay in the study."

"No, no way." She shook her head vehemently. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"No." he said, and she'd never seen him look so stern. "You're staying in my bed, which is just across the hallway, in case you need something. I'll stay in the study. I stay there a lot because of my writing, so you won't be pushing me out of my bed or anything."

Like before, she was too tired to argue. She nodded and gulped down her wine, moving away from the kitchen island. "Show me the room?" she asked him softly, and Castle followed her down the hallway, opening the door to his bedroom and letting her in. He went to his dresser and pulled out a burgundy shirt, extending it to her.

"It's the same from when you were here the last time." he said, and she managed to smile as softly as his words had sounded.

"Thank you." she replied, and he turned to leave. "Not just for the shirt. For everything."

He smiled, a smile so bright that she thought she'd need to sit on the bed. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to her and kiss her forehead in the most tender way he could. He didn't, though. He stood just where he was, still smiling.

"I'll be right down the hallway, in case you need me." he said and walked out, leaving an exhausted Kate behind him.

* * *

><p>It seemed like he had just fallen asleep when a small crash jolted him awake. He got up from the couch hastily, dropping the book he was reading on the floor, but not even looking back to check it; he was out the door as quickly as he could, when he saw Kate's figure squatting in the kitchen. He approached her and she lifted her head to confirm that it was him; it was so fast that he could barely make out the tear tracks across her cheeks.<p>

She had dropped a glass of water, and now she was trying to pick up the pieces but seemed to have cut herself in the process. The lights were off, so the only light was from the outside, making it hard for him to see her face and to scrutinize her features.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." she said through gritted teeth, and he could hear the tears in her voice. They made his heart beat faster in his chest as he leaned down and helped her pick up the larger pieces of glass, placing them on the counter. He helped her get off the ground and took her hands in his, examining the cut on her finger. It was superficial, but it still bled a lot. The warm, red fluid was now dripping onto the marble surface of the kitchen island, but he didn't care.

"Castle, go back to bed, I can take care of this myself." she tried to pull her hand away from his, but he didn't let her, turning off on the lights at the switch he had beneath the sink. He examined the cut carefully, making sure there wasn't more glass in it, and then placed her hand carefully on a cloth, walking to the service bathroom to get the first-aid kit.

Kate watched as he moved with confidence. She knew he should have probably done this a thousand times with Alexis, so it wasn't something new, but the two little creatures inside of her head were still battling each other, one wanting her to give in and the other begging her to pull her hand away and to run from that place.

She had woken up after a nightmare, her body covered in sweat and her heart beating so wildly that she needed a glass of water to compose herself again. She had poured herself some of the clear liquid in the kitchen, but the shaking of her hands had made her drop it with a loud crash on to the floor. The anger and fear she felt, combined with the frustration of the nightmare and the need to have someone take care of her were overwhelming her, driving stubborn tears down her face. She hadn't been able to avoid them, but she hadn't broken down completely, so that was a good sign.

Castle came out of the bathroom with the kit in his hands and placed it on the counter, where her hand was still lying against a blood-soaked cloth. He took her hand softly, as if he was holding a small bird, and pressed the peroxide against the wound, making her head fall on to her arms with the pain. It was ridiculous, how a small cut could hurt this much, but Kate imagined that her oversensitive condition was probably part of why it was so painful.

He saw her writhe in pain and blew softly across her skin, trying to ease the burning sensation. When the cut was clean, he placed a pink band-aid with a Disney princess on her finger, bringing her hand up to his mouth to kiss it.

She raised her head and looked at the pink bandage, smiling softly through the tears. "Jasmine. She's my favorite." she whispered, and her eyes returned to his. "Thank you. I didn't mean to be so clumsy."

Castle smiled and extended his arm to her, silently asking her to join him. She took his hand and he walked them to the couch, sitting apart but turned towards each other. Kate allowed her head to fall against the couch and his hand shot up, his thumb wiping the tears that were still lingering on her skin.

It was a tender gesture he'd done over and over again, but this time the significance was heavier. Kate felt her walls crumble one by one as her eyes filled up again and she hid her face in her hands, shame taking over her for breaking down in front of him. He couldn't care less, though; reaching across the sofa, he pulled her closer, mimicking the way they had sat in her apartment, nearly a month before. His hands drew hers away from her face and he watched as he saw the panic finally take over her.

Kate felt it again, and this time she couldn't fight it. It was the numbness of her hands, coupled with the sudden churning of her stomach and the cold in the back of her neck; she started to tremble as her eyes widened and her breathing became ragged, fast. She had to look at Castle and to see the concerned expression on his face to realize that the panic attack that had been looming over her all day was finally taking over her body. It feltwas horrible, like she was going to die. Out of breath, out of control, out of everything she thought could be humanely possible. She couldn't feel anything and yet she felt everything that surrounded her; the cold air from the kitchen, the texture of the sofa beneath her arms and legs, the softness of the shirt she had on. Everything that was internal felt heightened, but the help that was coming from the outside, from Castle's hands on the sides of her face or his soft whispers against her forehead were close to foreign. She knew they were there, but she couldn't let them get to her. No, she'd have to ride this one alone.

Castle went from confident in his ability to help her to terrified in a millisecond. When he saw the color fade from her face and noticed that her breathing was ragged, he did the only thing he could think of. Picking her up from the place she was sitting, he pulled her to his lap, placing her across him and holdingpulling her as close as he possibly could to his own body. She fought his grip at first, but Castle felt her give in after a few seconds, her breathing starting to slow down. He pressed gentle kisses on her temple as he rocked her back and forth like he would a small child, tears making an appearance in his eyes as well. He fought them and was able to contain them, but his breath came out just as ragged as hers.

It was terrifying, for both of them. The strength of the attack had surprised Kate, but the worst part was seeing the lost look on Castle's face as she started to come out of it, the exhaustion making its way into her features. He looked like a small boy who had just lost his pet, like a teenager who had lost his innocence. It was heartbreaking to see, and Kate's eyes filled up with tears again.

"I'm sorry." she whispered.

"I had no idea." he replied, his shaky hands placed on her back, pulling her even closer to his body. "I didn't know that it was this hard for you."

She knew what was happening. The moment she had mentioned to Lanie a few weeks back, the dawning of Sallinger's attack on her was happening now, and she knew she couldn't avoid it.

"Castle." She whispered, and he sniffled, a fewhis tears finally making their way down his face. He felt ridiculous. He was supposed to be the one comforting her, not the other way around. "Rick, I need you to talk to me." She begged.

"I didn't know you had to face something like this alone. I had no idea, Kate." he said, his tone bordering on apologetic, and she shook her head. "I'm so sorry."

"No." She said. "It's not your fault. It happens, shit happens and we can't do anything but to deal with it and move on."

"I wish I could make itthat stop."

"You just did." she whispered, her eyes searching his face. She brought her hand up to caress his cheek slowly, brushing a tear away. Kate looked at him quizzically, and when he was about to ask her what she was thinking, she spoke up. "Can you sleep with me?" She asked.

Instead of replying, he got up from the couch, picking her up effortlessly and carrying her to the bedroom. Beckett hid her face in his neck, inhaling his scent and forcing herself to avoid the thoughts she knew would accompany this kind of intimacy. Was this too much? Was she allowing him to go too deep inside of her chest, into the way she moved and thought and felt? There wasn't much she could do now — she had accepted his comfort and now she was craving more of it.

He placed her down on her feet by the side of the bed, allowing her to enter it on her own while he moved to the other side. The two of them laidaid side by side, both looking up at the ceiling through the dim moonlight.

"Kate?" he asked after almost five minutes of silence.

"Hm?" she hummed her response, and he smiled. He felt brave, suddenly, like he was able to face any battle, any kind of heartbreak to be with her. Castle didn't know whether it was because he was lying in bed with her, if it was the warmth of her body or the fact that she had just allowed him to witness something he was fairly sure no one else had, but he felt bold, and the words began to stumble out of his mouth.

"I want to... _Damn_. " he said, and her silence allowed him to continue. "I want to love you like I did before. I want to be with you like I was before." he whispered, and he felt her turn to her side, facing him. His hand darted out to find hers and he intertwined their fingers, but he didn't turn.

"Rick." She whispered, but he was on a roll.

"I know I hurt you, but I had my reasons and Alexis was in danger, and I missed you so much, Kate, I couldn't even breathe, I couldn't write or think or —

"I know." she interrupted him, and he finally dared to look at her. Her eyes were moist again, but a small smile was lingering on her features. "Alexis told me why you left. And I wish you had told me then."

"I'm sorry." he whispered again, and she rolled her eyes.

"Stop apologizing." Kate sighed before she continued. "I can't deal with this, Castle, not right now. Not when he's out there."

His silence was heartbreaking, and Kate rose up on her elbow to see him more clearly. "Hey." She nudged him. "I just don't want this — us — to be tainted. I don't want to think back to when we got together and realize it was because Sallinger was out there."

Castle moved, at last, rising up to look at her face. A smile was taking over, now, and he wondered for a second if he'd really heard her say 'when they got together'. It wasn't an if anymore, it was a when.

Still, he saw the fear he'd seen before in there, but there was something else, something defiant. It was more like the Kate he remembered from the times previous to his departure.

"Alright." It was all he could whisper, and as soon as he did, a smile appeared on her face. He cleared his throat before he spoke, but it still came out as a low whisper, an almost embarrassed sound that made the Detective's heart flutter.

"You know when you realize — this is really silly, by the way — but when you realize that there's no point in fighting anymore, in running away?" he asked, and Kate's features darkenedsombered for a second, before she saw the smile that was still on his face. "You and I, Kate, we're going to be together. Eventually. I know that. So I'll wait. I'll be patient and I'll wait for as long as I have to, because I know that you and I can't be apartwill be together, in the end."

Kate's features went from curious to stunned, to a smile so luminous he'd never wanted to see the it leave her face. She placed her hand on his and intertwined their fingers. "You're right." She said. "That's really silly."

Castle opened his mouth in mock offense, but she held his hand tighter before she released it. "And you, Richard Castle, are a sap." She added. "But I do think you got it straightright. So what's the rush?"

"There's no rush." Castle said, leaning back into the pillow and forcing her to do the same. "But we do need to be at the precinct at 8 a.m., so close your eyes and give me your hand. We have some sleep to catch up on to."

* * *

><p>His hand moved to the side of his bed as the first waves of consciousness started to rush through him; he half expected to find it empty, but the disappointment was still there, when the tips of his fingers met the still-warm sheets.<p>

The smell, though. His eyes refused to open until the tempting smell of bacon made its way into his senses, and he jumped to sit on the bed like an excited child. Pausing for a second to regain his footing — man, he was getting old — Castle rose to his feet and walked to the master bathroom, checking his image in the mirror and grinning in disgust.

When he made his way into the kitchen, a few minutes later, Castle realized Kate hadn't noticed he was up, so he stood beside the shelf in the living room, observing her. She moved quickly through the small space, somehow familiarized with where everything was stored. He wondered for a moment if she could still recall the places and the cabinets from the nights she'd spent there before he'd left.

What surprised him about the whole scene was the calm with which she moved. Cooking seemed to be close to therapeutic to the Detective, her expression quiet, serene. There was none of the panic from the night before, none of the fear he had so vehemently tried to chase away; there was just a feeling of domesticity that he had never gotten before, not from Kate Beckett.

"I know you're there, Castle." Beckett's voice flew through the air between them and Castle threw his hands up in defeat. He moved towards the kitchen island, approaching her with a smile.

"I think I'm having a dèja vu." he said quietly, and Kate smiled. She knew what he was thinking; her mind, too, flew back to that morning so many moons ago, right after her apartment had exploded.

"It is... strange." she said with a smile, placing a plate with bacon and eggs in front of him and serving some for herself. They sat at the island, and Kate poured them both some coffee. "That was a very strange time."

"It was." Castle took the first bite of his eggs and his eyes flew to the back of his head. "Ohmygodkate." He said with a mouthful, trying to swallow the scalding food. She laughed and threw him a napkin, hitting him square in the face.

"Manners, Castle." she warned, and dug into the food herself.

He swallowed and cleared his throat before he spoke. "I mean it, Beckett. These are awesome." his hand unconsciously moved across the table, coming to rest on hers without him noticing. "You didn't need to cook, though, I could have gotten you something on our way to the precinct."

Kate noticed the contact of their skin first, the heat starting to creep up her chest and her face. Despite her best judgement, however, the Detective didn't pull her hand away. Instead, she turned it around and allowed her fingers to curl into the palm of his hand, feeling the warmth he irradiated. It was only then that Castle seemed to notice the subtle touches, his stream of words stopping abruptly as his eyes darted towards their hands.

He looked from the hands to Kate's face once, then again to their hands and again to her face. He felt like a school boy, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He didn't know whether to run or to stay, but as he saw the shadow of a smile dance on Kate's features, he stilled his gaze and managed to smile back.

It only took them a few more seconds to slowly and tenderly withdrawn their hands, both sets of fingers extending until they had traced each other's palms and were now ending on the their extremities. It seemed to both Castle and Beckett that it was an awfully intimate moment to share when they weren't even together, but both seemed to shrug the thought away at the same time.

That's when the familiar sound of her cell rang through the room.

Kate moved to pick it up, looking at the screen before pressing the green button. "It's Jordan", she said, and Castle took another bite of his food while the Detective put her phone to her ear. "Jordan, we're just getting ready to go..."

The voice on the other side of the line filled Kate's chest with the sense of panic she thought she had discarded the night before.

"He took her! Oh God, he took her, Kate. Sallinger took her." Jordan said in a low, strangled voice. Kate was almost sure of what the FBI Agent meant, but she had to ask.

"Jordan, talk to me." Kate felt Castle place his fork on the table, and his hand came up again to rest on her arm. "Who did he take?"

"Tessa." Jordan breathed on the other side. "Sallinger took my daughter."

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em>

_Alright. You may kill me now. Or not. As you prefer._

_I know I promised more regular updates, but I have this music showcase coming up, and everyone's going crazy and turns out I might have to sing with a full orchestra behind me (OH GOD) and I'm panicking, so right now, I'm posting a chapter without having my next one ready. The good news? I'll have most of the day tomorrow to write, so I plan on doing just that, to relax from the pressure of everything else._

_I hope you like this chapter — I had a very hard time writing it, I kept editing until five minutes ago, when I threw it all up and decided to let it go like it is. I'm a little afraid of what you might think of them, of their reactions, but I do believe that's how they would come apart. And the good part is, from now on they sort of have a clean slate, you know? Their respective break downs have happened, we can move on from that and start their recovery._

_Thank you so very much for your incredible support. I have special thanks for two people: firstly, my fill-in beta, Diana, who so kindly got this chapter ready for me in less than 24 hours. The second person is the amazing daphnebeauty (whose work you should REALLY go read, because it's the best thing since bread came sliced), who was kind enough to promote my fic and to get me a whole bunch of new followers. *waves* Hi guys! Welcome aboard!_

_Now, click the little button down there and talk to me? I love knowing what you think, and discussing the details of this fic with you guys! :)_


	13. Thirteen

**XIII.**

* * *

><p>"Damn it." Castle pressed his thumb into the screen of his phone for the third time in two minutes. The stress of not being able to talk to Alexis was getting to him and while he didn't expect Kate's attention at that moment — more pressing issues were on her mind — he was craving it anyway.<p>

"Castle, stop doing that. It's seven thirty a.m., they're probably still asleep." Against his expectation, Kate placed a hand over his and pushed his phone down. She took a step closer and allowed her other hand to fall on his arm, squeezing it softly. "Plus, I just spoke to Jensen. There's been no movement, in or out of Paige's apartment."

They were in Jordan's building, getting into the elevator that would take them too the Shaw's apartment. The phone call from the FBI agent had them both dressed and ready to leave in five minutes, armed with the adrenaline from the previous day and the disbelief at the entire situation. Kate didn't understand — Sallinger didn't go for children, he went for grown ups, women he found dirty. She did know, however, that it was the only way the serial killer still had to get to her and Jordan, and that knowledge made her stomach churn. She had to get her back. She had to give Jordan back her daughter.

They walked into the elevator and stood side by side, Castle's expression tense. Kate knew how to mask hers so that she wouldn't make Jordan panic even more, but Castle, while not being new at this, had a lousy poker face when it came to children. The fact that he still hadn't been able to talk to Alexis that morning made it all the more complicated.

"Hey." Kate whispered and his eyes turned to her, a sudden softness invading them. "She's alright. The guys are with her."

He nodded. "Yes. I know." Castle sighed and ran his hand down his face, nervously. "It's just — a lot is happening at the same time. And Jordan, God."

The Detective hated that thought that she'd have to ask this, but her professionalism forced her to.

"Castle, if you don't think you can handle this, you should go home. She'll need us strong and steady, if you can't give her that you have no place here." she said, sternly. His eyes widened slightly at her words, but he didn't move. It took him a second to reply, and during that second she saw a myriad of answers flying through his face. Ultimately, she knew what his answer would be, but she still waited to hear it from him.

"I'm not leaving you alone."

"This isn't about me." Kate said, and the elevator's soft ding forced them to sober up and look ahead instead of each other's eyes. "This is it, Castle. In or out."

"In." he replied, his voice strong. "I'm not going anywhere."

Kate had to find all her strength to hide the smile that was threatening to make an appearance in her face; despite the chaos and the horror she was about to face when she got out of that elevator, the knowledge that he was with her made it all slightly easier.

The hallway that led to Jordan's apartment was bubbling with movement. There were people everywhere, moving around quickly with grave looks on their faces; it was almost like the death of a cop or an agent — despite the rush, the air was filled with reverence, with a silent respect for the case at hand and for the people involved.

Ryan and Esposito were waiting for Castle and Beckett just outside the apartment. Esposito raised an eyebrow when he saw them arriving together that early in the morning, but said nothing when the duo approached them.

"Where's Jordan?" Kate asked, pulling out her notepad and a pen and getting ready to work.

"Beckett, you might want to —" Esposito was trying to stop her, but she was already making her way into the foyer of the Shaw's apartment. She pushed the door in and was presented with the same kind of frantic movement she'd seen at the precinct the day before; people moving everywhere, FBI jackets and NYPD badges, guns, notepads, forensic teams. The Detective struggled not to let it get to her, and the presence of the three boys right behind her comforted her, in a way. Still, when she took another step into the apartment, she crashed into another body, momentarily closing her eyes and grabbing the other person's arm to regain her steadiness.

"Kate." Was all she heard, and her eyes flew open at the sound of the man's voice. When she looked up and encountered Will Sorenson'd blue eyes, she brought a hand up to her mouth, leaning back slightly.

"Oh. Will." She should have known. He was FBI, he was in the kidnap and ransom team, of course he'd be working this case. He was the best, and Jordan would definitely need the top of the class for this. Still, it didn't ease the awkwardness of seeing him again, after so long.

She had gotten a couple of emails from Will after the attack, most of them in a tone so concerned that she had just ignored them. She felt bad for it, but all the while she knew she wouldn't have had the strength to reply, to meet up with him like he wanted her to, to spend time with the man.

The whole ordeal took only a couple of seconds. Right after Kate crashed into Sorenson, another force crashed into her from behind, leaving her standing awkwardly between the two men. Castle looked down at the FBI Agent and Kate felt him tense up against her back.

The writer took a step back and Kate did too, the two of them standing side by side in front of the Agent. Will placed his hands in his pockets and looked away, a somewhat bitter smile showing up on his face.

"This isn't awkward at all." Castle whispered, and Kate's elbow made its way into his ribs, causing him to shriek slightly. Will smiled, as if he was expecting that kind of remark from the other man, and looked down at Kate.

"Jordan's in the girl's room." he said.

"Alright. I'm going to go talk to her." She turned to Castle and pointed towards Ryan and Esposito, who were watching the scene from afar with amused smiles on their faces. "Castle, do me a favor and stay with them. I need to speak with her alone."

The writer nodded, a grave look filling his features. A hand came up to rest on her skin, close to the point where her shoulder met the base of her neck, and Castle squeezed it gently. It was a gesture of comfort that could easily be mistaken for professional support — and she knew that. The soft, almost too quick smile she threw at him was proof enough that she'd felt it.

Kate walked into the bedroom hallway by herself. It was eerily quiet, compared to the rest of the house, butand she knew her way around it from the fewcouple of times she had been there before. Kate had met Tessa and Ted — Jordan's husband — had spent some time with them in the aftermath of the attack— a couple of times, and the idea that the little girl could be torn away from those loving parents was sickening. Reaching the bedroom, she looked into the pink and lilac room to find Jordan sitting on the bed, facing away from her and into a slightly open window. Sensing movement, the FBI agentJordan moved her head as if in slow motion, her eyes connecting with those of the Detective.

If Kate could choose a moment to break down, that would be it. She felt her heart beat faster as she took in the distraught look on her friend's face, a sense of duty taking precedent over anything else. Jordan had been there for her, she'd be here for the other womanAgent, now.

Beckett took small but certain steps towards the bed, taking in all the information she could gather. Jordan was wearing her work suit, which told her that she had probably woken up and gotten ready before she checked on the girl. She was clutching a toy in her hand, a small stuffed rat that seemed worn and washed out.

Kate had never been in the girl's room before, so she took it in as well. It was tidy — surprisingly so for an eight-year-old — with the usual pink princess stuff, a couple of Jonas Brothers and Justin Bieber posters, together with more childish things. What surprised Kate the most, however, was the presence of a small prayer book and a rosary on the nightstand — she didn't know Jordan was religious, let alone Catholic.

She sat on the bed beside Jordan, her hand going out to clutch the Agent's almost immediately. "Hey." She whispered, and Jordan's face rose high enough for Kate to see it. There were tear tracks on her face, her eyes were red and swollen, but she looked just like the fierce Agent Kate had always known. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Jordan nodded, clearing her throat. "I woke up at six thirty, got dressed. Ted usually wakes her up at seven — she doesn't need to be up earlier than that — so I was already set when he came into her room and didn't see her." Jordan's tone was steady. "He called me up, and that's when we noticed the door was open. At first we thought she'd gone down to the doorman's house. She likes to play with his daughter — Sarah, they're the same age —, but she wasn't there and that's when I came up and saw the book." Jordan pointed to the pillow and Kate's eyes laid on a copy of Goodnight Moon.

That was one of the unreleased details from the Sallinger case — he'd leave a story book beside each woman, almost as if he'd only put them down for a nap and not for death. The presence of the small volume was enough for Kate to be sure that it was him who had Tessa.

"Alright." Kate said, taking a deep breath. "Where's Edward?"

Jordan motioned towards the door. "He's in the kitchen with a couple of Agents. Avery's with him." She explained. "He's much worse than I am." Jordan added almost as an afterthought.

"Jordan — " Kate started, but was interrupted by the FBI Agent.

"I'm not staying out of this, Kate. I want in on every detail, everything you know." Beneath the broken exterior of Jordan's features, there was a hardness, a resistance that Kate knew well. A darkness, borne out of the years in the field, of actually knowing what could happen. She imagined that it would be similar to a doctor finding out that someone close had been in a car crash — the years of knowledge, of endless nights and profuse blood ended in the worst possible images inside their brain. She knew Jordan wouldn't back down.

"Alright." It was all Kate could say. "I'm going to go to the kitchen, to try to talk to Edward. Want to come?"

Jordan nodded, her knuckles whitening on the small fluff rat. "Sure."

The two of them rose from the bed, Jordan's balance intact as she got to her feet and ran her hands down her cheeks to eliminate the tears. Kate knew she wasn't made of stone, she wasn't going to keep up with that strength — but there was nothing she could do, but to stand beside Jordan at all times, trying to hold her together.

They made their way through the hallway and a wave of silence seemed to follow them; while they crossed the living room to go into the kitchen, the FBI agents slowly stopped talking, watching as Jordan moved with reverence. Kate knew, now, why she had wanted to appear strong — even though she was the victim now.;, tThose people still looked up to the redhead, they still watched her with unashamedbided admiration.

Edward Shaw's condition was much worse than that of his wife; he was leaning against the kitchen counter, a glass with a bottom of water in his right hand. His hand shook so much, so fiercely, though, that the little water it held nearly spilled over. There were tear tracks on his face as well, but his eyes were redder; the plaid shirt he was wearing made him look like a teenager caught doing something illegal, but the crushed experience and the white strands of hair on his temples revealed the weight of the years, of the pain he was feeling in that moment.

Jordan didn't hug him or whisper soothing nonsenses, likee any other woman would have; instead, she took the glass from his hand and placed it on the counter, lacing her fingers through her husband's and standing quietly next to him..

It was only then that Kate noticed that Castle had also made his way into the kitchen, standing behind her. The warmth from his presence was enough for her to take a deep breath and gather up the courage to address Ted, the man she's so often played poker with, traded books and shared inside jokes about Jordan.

"Ted." She whispered. "Jordan told me how it happened. Is there anything you remember, something Jordan might have missed, or wasn't there to see?" she asked as softly as she could, and her heart broke when she saw the face of the man in front of her crumble. Jordan's hand on his gripped tighter and he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down enough to talk.

"No." He cleared his throat. "I told Avery everything, don't think there's anything else."

"Alright." she said, writing it down on her notes. Her heart sped up when she felt the professor's hand on her arm. Her eyes rose up to meet his.

"Kate." He started and looked away, trying to talk through the tears. "Kate, do you think we have a chance here?"

It was the worst possible thing to ask, especially when she knew them so well. She could see the hardness in Jordan's expression dissolving as she allowed her head to fall on her husband's shoulder; Ted's face was more heartbreaking than ever, as if it had stopped mid-sob, his face close to a dramatic greek mask. Kate had to take a deep breath to fight off her own tears.

"I don't know, Ted." She said, her voice steady. "We're doing everything we can."

"Please." He pleaded softly, and Kate felt Castle's hand on her back, trying to lend her the support she so desperately needed.

They stood like that for a few minutes; the four of them standing silently in the kitchen. Jordan had her forehead pressed against her husband's shoulder; Ted had his hand on her face and his head thrown back, while Kate stood awkwardly, leaning slightly against Castle, who seemed to be a ghost presence, silent and comforting.

The clearing of a throat brought the attention of the foursome to the entrance of the room, where Will Sorenson was standing, his hands stuck awkwardly on his pockets. His eyes were on Kate's as soon as she turned, and he cocked his head to the side, a questioning look on his eyes as he took in the scene in front of him.

"Detective Beckett, can I talk to you?" He asked, and Kate leaned away from Castle to move towards the door. She wasn't surprised to realize that Castle was right behind her, and she didn't fight him off. Sorenson's eyes went from hers to those of the man behind her, as the duo walked out of the kitchen and into the busy dining room.

"Have you got something new?" Kate asked as soon as they were out of earshot. Castle stopped right behind her and she could feel the heat radiating from his chest. It was all she needed — his silent presence, his strength.

"Detective Beckett" Sorenson started, and Kate felt the conflict that was coming. "When I asked to talk to you, I meant you alone."

Castle made no move to leave them alone. "No." She said. "He stays."

Sorenson's eyes were questioning. "Are you sure?"

She nodded her agreement, and the FBI agent started speaking. "I just wanted to assess your situation with the parents."

Kate felt like hitting Will. _The parents_? Those weren't some random parents on the street, that was Jordan Shaw, she was one of them. How dare him treat them like they were anything like any other couple they might have encountered? It was hard to keep her cool, but the last thing Kate needed was to be booted off the case, so she shut up.

"What about_ my situation_?" She didn't keep the bitterness from her voice.

"You're friends with them." He said. Kate nodded. "You're close with them, and you're working their daughter's case."

Castle took a step forward, standing beside Kate instead of behind her. "I don't see what the problem is, Agent Sorenson." He spoke, his voice more serious than usual.

"The problem is, she's too close to the case. She knows the girl, for heaven's sake." Sorenson explained with a softness that wasn't realwelcome. It was false, condescending —like he was talking to a four year old. Castle didn't like it.

"You and I know Detective Beckett, Agent Sorenson." Castle started, taking a step closer to the other man. "We both know how her extraordinary ability to compartimentalize, and I assure you, no one wants this girl back more than she does."

Kate watched as the staring match between the writer and the federal agent took place; for a moment, she didn't know whether to feel angry or amused at the two men, both so grown up and still so childish.

"If _Detective Beckett_ might speak..." She started, dragging both their eyes to herself. "Can I? Thank you." Kate turned to Sorenson. "I can handle it, and you know that I can. Jordan and I know this guy better than anyone else, and since she's not up for the task, I'm here. I'm not leaving this case." Without looking at Castle, Kate managed to direct her voice to the writer. "You, do me a favor and find Avery, tell him to set up a secondary war room down here. We're not leaving this apartment."

Now, she was back; the stress and the hurt from the moments in the kitchen, however weakening, had passed. Kate was back to being the efficient and driven Detective Beckett.

When Castle turned around and left to find Agent Avery, Sorenson leaned closer to Kate. "The Writer Monkey still does everything you tell him." The mocking tone made her stomach turn.

"At least he's doing something. Aren't you supposed to be running this damn operation?" She threw the words at him, turning around and leaving the dining area room to go into the living room, where Agent Avery was already directing the FBI workers in the task of setting up a smart board. Kate stole a glance towards Castle, who was staring at the gadget like a kid on Christimas, a wistful smile on his face. She felt like running her hand through his cheeks to feel his smile under the tips of her fingers. Instead, she walked towards him and nudged his arm with her own.

"Thank you for not questioning me." she said softly. He shrugged and turned to her, and then to the smart board. "Did you talk to Alexis?"

He nodded. "Yeah. She's fine. You were right, they were asleep."

Kate smiled slightly an nudged his shoulder with her own. She felt his arm move as he took a deep breath, his exhale coming out shaky and tense.

"Now what?" He asked quietly.

"Now we wait, Castle. Hopefully, Sallinger will say something soon enough."

—

_Author's note:_

_I'm so very sorry for the delay. The darn showcase put my entire life on hold, and I really do apologize! It was epic, though. Singing with a whole orchestra behind me? It was incredible._

_I'm also sorry because I still haven't been able to reply to many of the reviews I got for the last chapter. I hope to do it soon enough, but in case I don't get to it, thank you so much for talking to me. Each and every of your words is of immense value to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you._

_I hope you like this. It was a tough labor and I'm not exactly ecstatic about it, but it was needed._

_And thanks again to Diana for beta-ing for me. She's lovely._

_Now, click it? The button right below these words, I mean. The review one, yes. Please? Make me happy._


	14. Fourteen

**XIV.**

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><p>The day went by at a slow and steady rhythm. Jordan and Ted had moved from the kitchen to the dining room, where he sat clutching the stuffed rat his wife had been toying with earlier and she sat down with a pile of letters and behavior reports from when Sallinger was in prison. It was now three in the afternoon, and Castle was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, watching the couple silently.<p>

It was a kind of pain he prayed he would never have to face. The death of a child, of _his_ child was unbearable — but the kidnapping? It wasn't that far away. The uncertainty regarding the condition of the child, the knowledge that they would be terrified and hopeless and bound and beaten was beyond any kind of suffering he could imagine. He was out of words to describe the pained expression in Ted's face, the way his brows furrowed every once in a while, as if he was trying to keep the tears inside. When he did that, even without a glance, Jordan's hand would shoot from its place on the table and clutch his, her silent support bringing him back together. It had happened four or five times over that last hour, and it was starting to break Castle apart.

A hand on his back told him he wasn't alone; the sweet smell of the coffee that was now in front of his eyes told him that the person behind him was the one whose contact he'd been craving all day. Beckett showed off the disposable cup of coffee in front of his eyes and he grabbed it slowly, his face turning and his eyes resting on her features.

She looked exhausted, but wide awake. It must be the coffee, he thought, and took a sip of his own cup. He hummed his pleasure underneath her stare and saw her smile softly for the first time in hours.

"This is usually my job, Detective."

Kate shrugged, looking down at her cup. "Oh well. I thought you might need it." She stared at his cup for a second before her eyes drew their way back to his. "Is it the way you like it?"

Castle stared at the cup in his hands, a smile that matched hers appearing on his face. "Mocha latte with an espresso shot. It's perfect."

"Good." She whispered and they stood silently, turning slightly towards the dining room and towards the couple ahead of them. Castle sighed and Beckett's hand made its way to the space between his shoulder blades, almost unconsciously. It was mirror of the gesture he'd had when she had told him about Sallinger, and she knew that right now, he needed it. This case wasn't just a blow on her and the Shaws; he was the one with a daughter himself, the one with his own redhead girl waiting at home. The similarities between Alexis and Tessa weren't striking, but it wasn't hard to remember the teenager when you stared at an eight year old with flaming red hair and her father's deep blue eyes.

Kate witnessed the same kind of moment Castle had before; she watched as Ted took a deep breath and kept it inside, as if the exhale would bring the tears. She watched as Jordan's hand rubbed his arm softly, she noticed the way his breathing calmed down. She also noticed that Castle was holding his own breath beside her, so she moved her fingers softly, tenderly across his back.

Castle's voice was quiet, almost inaudible when he spoke.

"Do you think it's awful that I'm here, wishing I could find that kind of solace, that kind of intimacy with someone?" When Kate's stare didn't move from the couple, he continued. "Look at them. They don't need to look at each other, they don't need words. All they need is each other's presence nearby. It's the kind of thing that isn't just made of love, it's made of so much more. " He added, almost as an afterthought. "I wish I knew what that was like."

"I thought you'd felt that with Meredith. Or Gina." Kate whispered, trying not to sound disappointed. She had hoped she could provide him with that kind of security, but he was right — this wasn't something made just out of love, out of passion. It was made out of time, of the nights spent together trying to appease a crying child, of the days and the troubles of the married, daily life. It wasn't something that was there from the start — but it was the proof of the strength of a relationship.

"Nah." He shook his head. "I was too young for that with Meredith and Gina just wasn't that kind of person."

"There's still time." Kate whispered, nonchalantly, as she prepared to leave him and move into the living room. The writer placed a hand on her arm, preventing her from leaving the spot.

"There is, if you can give it to me."

Kate's mouth opened and closed, the ability to produce sound abandoning her for a moment. She could feel the charge that his comment held, the kind of commitment he was asking her to make. And she would, she would take that step, she'd give herself to him wholeheartedly if not for the fact that they were in the middle of an investigation, of a child abduction, no less. She would allow herself to indulge the fantasy if the daughter of one of her closest friends wasn't missing. She woud allow herself to let go if she wasn't still so terrified that he'd break her into a thousand little pieces again.

"Kate, get in here!" They heard Will's voice from the living room and the duo rushed into the open space, appearing at the kitchen door at the same time Jordan and Ted appeared on the other entrance. Will was hunched over a phone at the coffee table, his eyes fixed on the screen of his laptop. As she made her way to the FBI Agent she could see what she thought was a video player. Sorenson looked behind himself and when he realized Kate, Castle and the Shaws were behind him, he pressed play.

The video showed a dark room with a light pointing towards the wall; a small, hunched figure could be seen against it, and Kate's stomach turned when she saw the flaming red hair in front of her eyes. Not able to turn her sight away from the screen, Kate only heard as Jordan slipped out a surprised 'oh', sitting down on a chair that was placed beside her by one of the agents.

The person holding the camera approached the girl, who seemed calm, despite the fear that was clear in her round, blue eyes. A hand made its way into the picture, pulling the girl's face up by the chin and holding it to the light so that she could be seen. The girl seemed to be alright, not hurt, at least in the face. There was a defiance in her look, the same kind of anger Kate had seen in Jordan when she had first seen her at the hospital, the same kind of cold, implacable force. That girl wouldn't break.

The voice came out without distortion. It wasn't necessary, they all knew it was him, so when the face of Mark Sallinger showed up at the screen, Kate managed not to show any type of reaction; even though Castle's pinky finger touched hers, she was able to pull away and cross her arms in front of her chest.

He spoke slowly, softly. Like he was talking to a child.

"As you can see, the girl is fine. She's a tough little cookie, but she calmed down as soon as she realized she had no way out of this one. Right, Tessa?" The girl maintained her expression. Not a muscle moved in her face. Sallinger smiled, a crooked smile that made Kate want to throw up. Her hand shot out to grab the one of the writer beside her and his fingers squeezed hers. "Now, let's talk business. We all know I have no interest in keeping this girl with me. She's a lot of work, believe it or not. So I have a proposition for y'all. The mother and her little detective buddy, what do you think? It's fair, right?"

Kate and Jordan shared a look and the former gripped Castle's hand tighter.

Sallinger's voice took on a more serious tone when he made his formal request. "Bring me Special Agent Jordan Shaw and Detective Kate Beckett tonight. At midnight, I'll be waiting at the docks with the girl. You know, the place where you got me last time? If the two of them come, unarmed, the girl goes home. And let's be clear, I'm not taking one or the other — it's a package deal, so if I only see one of the two, Tessa here is the first to die."

The video ended then, finding the whole room staring at the small screen. Kate's hand was still clutched in Castle's when Will turned around, but he didn't seem to notice it. His eyes were on Jordan, who was moving, walking from one side of the room to the other, small but certain steps. Edward was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands while his shoulders shook with the sobs, but Jordan was moving at a frantic pace, the wave of panic finally taking over her.

"Jordan, we..." Will started to talk, but the look she threw him didn't leave space for words or for anything else. It was pure, unadulterated rage. The anger Jordan had been holding inside for hours was finally about to come out of her body, and Will silently motioned for everyone in the room to leave. The agents and investigators all left the room, with the exception of Will, Kate, Castle and Henderson, who was sitting next to Sorenson with a grave look stuck to her features.

"That son of a bitch." Jordan muttered under her breath. "He has her, he has Tessa, and oh, God —" Jordan's knees buckled and she sat on the chair that she has just gotten up from. Will's eyes searched for Kate's and she nodded, silently telling him that she accepted the mission. There was no doubt in her mind about this — she was giving herself up in order to save Tessa.

Castle noticed the interaction between Sorenson and Beckett and a wave of panic similar to Jordan's settled in his chest. He looked down at Kate, who was staring at him apologetically, and released a shaky breath. "Kate, you can't —

"I have to, Castle." She whispered. "It's not up for discussion."

He moved, then. Somehow, his morbid curiosity wasn't enough to keep him in the room, so he walked out to the kitchen while Kate moved towards Jordan. She kneeled near the other woman and took her hand in hers.

"We'll go together, Jordan. We'll be there at midnight and we'll bring Tessa back, and we'll take that son of a bitch down." She whispered, and Jordan's eyes finally met hers.

"I can't ask you that."

"You're not. I'm going whether you want me to or not. For Tessa." Jordan nodded at Kate's words.

The link between those two women suddenly became more that just the friendship that held them together; like lionesses, they were now bound by the need for a truly selfless action, by the need to risk their own lives to save that of the cub. Kate had no doubt in her mind that she would do as Sallinger said — even if it was just for the need to try and shove him back into prison — or kill him. At that moment, there was no place for mercy in her brain, just the radical need to end her friend's pain, and her own.

Kate had been avoiding the flashbacks to her own attack for most of the day, but seeing his face again had brought some of it back. She clenched her teeth against that feeling and got up from the floor, turning to Will.

"Set up the operation." She said dryly, and moved to the kitchen, where Castle was waiting for her.

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><p>He knew she would need to do this, he knew she would never say no to the chance of saving a child's life, especially if it was Jordan's kid. He knew there was no doubt in her mind, which left him even more distraught. He just couldn't fathom having Kate run off to meet a killer, to meet the man who had made such a mess out of her life, with no gun or backup. Her death was a probability that he didn't want to equate, and yet it was all he could think about.<p>

Castle was leaning against the kitchen counter when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around and saw Ted Shaw's figure in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb with the track of the fresh tears marking his face. To Castle, they were like tattoos, their course too deep, too ingrained in the man's face. He wondered for a second if Ted would ever be able to overcome this event, even if Tessa made it home unscathed.

"I wish he had asked for me." Ted whispered, and Castle took a step closer to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I wish I could go and do something."

"I know." The writer whispered back. It wasn't a lie; Castle knew exactly what he felt like — powerless, beaten, useless. He had been feeling the same since a few minutes before Sallinger had asked for Kate. For _his _Kate. "You'll get your girl back." Castle assured, and Ted's hands came up to wipe the tears from his face.

"I want both my girls. I don't want to trade them off."

They stood there, silently leaning against the doorjamb, for more than a few minutes. When Ted finally moved back to Jordan's side, still clutching the plush rat in his hands, Castle felt the approach of the Detective.

"I'm sorry, Rick." She said as she stood in front of him. She knew how broken he was, she could see it all over his face. She was broken, too, but she knew what she had to do, she knew she could fight this. For him to stay on the sidewalk and do nothing was the worst kind of torture.

Castle took her hand, his ability to form words lost for a moment. Kate took a step forward and placed her forehead against his chest, taking a deep breath.

"Kate, can I talk to you for a second?" Will's voice startled the duo, forcing them to turn around quickly. The thought that maybe the FBI agent was picking the perfect time to interrupt them crossed the writer's mind, but he quickly shook it away.

Kate turned around but didn't let go of Castle's hand. Will stared at them for a moment, before starting to talk reluctantly.

"We're going to set up the operation now, with the FBI. You'll be informed of everything, but afterwards I'd like you to go home and get some rest. I need you to be fresh when you meet Sallinger."

Kate shook her head vigorously. "No. There's no way I'm going to leave them."

"It's an order, Kate. I'm in charge here and I'm ordering you to go home for a few hours. Be with your people, rest for a bit."

It wasn't until the Detective and Sorenson stared at each other intently that Castle realized what the other man meant: she was supposed to say goodbye. In that second, it became unspoken knowledge between them — they all knew how risky the situation was, and knowing what serial killer was capable of made the possibility of not Kate nor Jordan making it out of there alive. So, Castle realized, Sorenson was merely giving Kate time to say goodbye to her loved ones. The thought made his hands go cold, his fingers tingling with panic.

He didn't understand how Kate was so quick to sacrifice herself, yet at the same time it was one of the reasons he loved her so much. She was fearless, and she did what needed to be done, no questions asked. If she had to die to save a child's life, she would, and she wouldn't even question the fairness of it all. Rick was different — while never being a faithful man, he was already wondering what kind of God or twist of fate had brought them together once again just to make her die in front of his eyes.

He tensed up at the thought. _No_. She wouldn't die. She'd pull through like she always did. They'd have all the time in the world to stay together, whether as friends, as lovers or merely partners.

After a few tense seconds, Kate nodded, looking away from the two men. "Alright. Show me the plan, so I can leave."

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><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_Alright. Please don't kill me. I'm doing something I don't normally do, which is posting without having a beta reader to go through my chapter. I did a spell check — and being portuguese, you can expect some grammar mistakes, but I am so tired of having this piece sitting on my desktop and sending me hate vibes, because it was so damn tough to write. I suck at writing action, I really do. And this is the proof of that._

_I hope some of you are still with me. I blame this chapter for my inability to post sooner — I had such a hard time with it that I completely lost the will to write. I did everything — I photographed, I processed a gazillion of photos, I cooked, I baked, I outlined three novels to choose from when I start NaNoWriMo (are any of you guys doing it?), I did it all. Except writing this fiction. So please, please, please forgive me._

_I hope you enjoy this, despite my hating it. It's smaller, but I really couldn't stretch it out that much, so here it is, let me know what you think. And talk to me! I replied to some of your reviews from last chapter, but then stopped letting me e-mail you guys and I ended up not going through them all. I'll try to go through some of them now, but either way here's my thank you note — you guys are amazing. :)_

_So now, for the begging... please review?_


	15. Fifteen

_Previously, on Redemption:_

_Jordan's kid was kidnapped by the same guy who assaulted Beckett. He asked for both Jordan and Kate in exchange for the kid. They're going in at midnight. In the meantime, Will sent Kate home to rest before the mission. Or to say goodbye. However you want to see it._

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><p><strong>XV.<strong>

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><p>It was almost five in the afternoon when Castle and Beckett made their way into her apartment. The trip from Jordan's place had been silent, tense like the rest of their day, with the added pressure of the rescue mission later that night.<p>

To Castle, it wasn't just the weight of the past few days becoming heavy on his back; it was the fear of having this be his last time in her apartment. His usually optimistic self was overshadowed by the idea that this could be the last time he made his way into this place accompanied by her; that this felt too much like those seconds right before the bomb was supposed to go off, a lifetime ago. It gave him a sense of deja vù, and when he turned to stare at the woman in front of him, he realized that she must be thinking the same thing.

Kate had her arms around her midsection, standing in the middle of her living room with closed eyes. He knew what she was doing — she was taking everything in, grounding herself. She was erasing the possibility of not coming home from her mind.

That afternoon, after listening intently to the description of the mission, of the procedure, after knowing what would happen once Kate and Jordan served as trade for Tessa, he had gotten some measure of relief. They'd enter alone, but they'd be backed up by a SWAT team, by NYPD and FBI agents. They wouldn't really be on their own.

Castle knew, however, that Kate wasn't just worried about her physical well being. He had faith in her, faith in Jordan and in the array of agents that would surround them — but at the same time he knew that it had the potential to break her. Being face to face with the man who had assaulted her, having the possibility of either killing him or being killed by him — there was no middle ground anymore. It was terrifying for him, so he imagined it must be a thousand times worse for her.

Kate knew, but she couldn't bring herself to talk. She knew that if she did, she'd break. So she stood in the middle of her living room, her eyes now open, raking across the room as she extended her arm and took his hand in hers, clutching it and bringing it up to rest against her chest.

Time was an issue. She'd have to be at the precinct at nine to get ready for the mission, to get acquainted with the agents who would be following them, to be given the indications on what she should or should not do — as if she wasn't aware of them already. But they had established that timeline, which gave them little over three hours to be there. She did the math in her head and looked up to him, appearing small and childish for a split second. His eyes widened, but he didn't say a word while she let go of his hand and moved to the kitchen, removing a tin box from one of the cabinets and placing it carefully on the island. He moved to stand in front of her, the table with the box poised between them like a wall.

Kate's fingers trembled as she pulled the lid off the round container, but she didn't ask for his help. When she was finally able to remove the cover, she placed it aside, eyeing its content with a tender, almost loving expression.

Upon looking down, Castle saw a couple of envelopes, a few photographs, memorabilia from plays and concerts and places Kate had been to. He watched intently as she removed the envelope from the bottom. The scripture on the front made his hands go cold.

"Kate." He managed to utter, but she shook her head. Kate took the envelope and gently placed it on the wooden surface of the island, the words she'd written in her cursive hand popping out.

_Last will and testament._

"Kate" He croaked, rather than pleaded, and her eyes met his, filled to the brim with the tears she was refusing to let fall. She shook her head and placed a hand over his, her fingers as soft and tender as she had been handling the letter.

"You —" She started and stopped abruptly, clearing her throat. "You should know where everything is." Kate whispered. "I don't own much, but I'm very specific about some of my things, that's why I did it. And I'm going to put it in the box again, keep out of our sight, but you had to know."

"Thank you." He whispered gently, and she nodded. For a split second, he wasn't sure he was worthy of the trust she was bestowing upon him. Her hand left his and her fingers started to move upon the other envelopes.

"There are letters here, addressed to some of you. You're included. Lanie, my dad, the boys. You know, just in case."

Kate took the lid and closed the box, storing it in the same place she'd taken it from only minutes before. She sighed and moved around the island to the couch, closely followed by Castle, who sat beside her, closer than he himself would have expected.

They sat silently for a few minutes, each lost in their little world as all the conversation starters seemed too small, too unimportant. No words seemed to be able to transpose the gravity of the situation, or even to lighten it. So he went with the question that had been lingering on his brain ever since she'd opened that box.

"You said that there was a letter for me in the box." Rick's words came out soft, almost inaudible, but he knew she'd heard them from the faint nod she used as a response. "What does it say?"

Kate took a deep breath, feeling the writer's eyes cast on her figure as she turned towards him on the couch. These were the exact same positions they'd taken the night she told him about the assault, she realized as he turned and mirrored her stance.

"We could have had it all." She said, and his eyes widened in curiosity.

"What?"

"That's basically the message of the letter. We could have had it all." Her reply held more conviction, but it was also laced with defeat, with something in her voice he couldn't quite identify. Resignation. Yes, that was it, and it broke his heart to know that he had something to do with that feeling.

"We still can." He whispered before he could think, and her eyes rose up to meet his, her smile soft.

"Do you really think so?" She asked just as softly, and he moved closer to her on the couch.

"I think — I know that if we make it through tonight, I'm not letting you go." He said firmly and he saw a full smile on her face for the first time that day. Her hand came up to meet his and he intertwined their fingers, pulling her closer, so close that their knees were touching.

"There are issues. Things to work through, things to talk about." Contrary to what she expected, her words didn't make him stop. He smiled, a boyish expression taking over his features, as he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"We're good at talking. We'll work things out." He stated and she was elated by the faith he had in her, in them.

A part of her wanted to stop, wanted to push him away and tell him that they would never work, that they'd never be the couple they promised each other; the biggest part of her, however, wanted noting more than to let herself go and allow him to take her, to kiss her, to make her forget everything that was going on and to focus solely on his touch, on his eagerness to learn every small bit of her body. The conversation from the previous night came back to her mind; the fact that she didn't want their first time to be under the cloud of Sallinger's escape was now a small detail. She didn't know if she'd survive the night, she didn't know whether or not she'd ever see him again. There was no tomorrow, no waiting, no postponing what they should have done long ago.

The decision was made in a split second. Her hand came up to touch his face and he closed the space between them, their lips finally touching. It wasn't a soft kiss, not even a tender one; it was born out of desire, out of the need to consume each other before their time was up, before they could ever realize what they were doing. His mouth closed on her lower lip and she moaned softly, the sound escaping her throat without her permission or intent. She allowed her tongue to exit her mouth and play with his, the small touches sending tingles down her spine, down her arms, to her fingers and especially, to that place in her lower stomach where all of her energy seemed to be concentrated.

His hands wandered, not stopping here or there, but making sure they were touching every inch of her, tracing every line, every spot through her clothes. He wasn't pushing things forward and she knew it; his fingers were attentive, but they hadn't even inched beneath her sweater, and she had given him plenty of opportunity. When she realized he wasn't trying to have sex with her, only kiss the air out of her lungs, she slowly pushed the kiss to an end and took his hand, pulling him up from the couch.

When she motioned towards her bedroom, he stopped, pulling her back.

"Kate, are you — are you sure?" he asked, his face flustered and his hands shaking slightly. She propped herself up on her toes and kissed him softly as she feelt his hands come to rest on her hips — not squeezing, not groping — just resting there. She allowed her hands to rest just as softly on his chest, looking him in the eye.

"Yes." She whispered, and he kissed her fiercely, with a fire she knew he'd been holding back until then. "I'm sure. I need this — I need you. I don't want to die without this."

"You won't die." He said, his expression suddenly serious. "I won't let you."

It wasn't the time to be realistic. This was the time to let herself be swept off her feet, Kate thought as she uttered her reply. "I'll fight like hell to get back to you. I promise."

"Good."

He finally followed her into her bedroom, closing the door behind himself. When he turned to the bed, she was standing next to it, her heels dropped by the end of the mattress, her hands on the bottom of her shirt.

Rick took a the steps that separated them quickly, stilling her hands and pushing them away with a tenderness that brought a lump to her throat. He kissed each palm before he dropped them, his hands coming to rest on the small patch of skin that separated her dress pants from the knit sweater. His mouth found hers again as he pulled the two layers of fabric up, stopping only to pull them over her head and coming back for more the moment the garments were discarded.

When the kiss broke and his hands stopped wandering her back, he pulled back, looking at the woman in front of him with a reverence she had never seen in his eyes. She was wearing nothing but a black bra and her dress pants, and the fingers on his right hand made a path from the hollow of her throat, down the middle of her chest, to her belly button. It was only then that he felt her hands working on the buttons of his dress shirt, already halfway through. As soon as she finished them — with remarkable speed — she pulled the shirt slowly off his shoulders, leaning in to place a kiss just above his heart.

His hands flew to her head, pulling her in for another kiss, this time slower, more sweet than passionate, and the next few seconds were spent trying to divest themselves of their respective pairs of pants. A minute later, they were standing in that same spot, clad only in their underwear as the kiss came to an end.

"Damn, you're gorgeous." He whispered as his eyes traveled down her body. Kate smiled and moved her hand to her back, unclasping the bra and allowing it to fall forward and to land between their feet. Castle lowered his head and kissed a path from the hollow of her throat to her shoulder, his hands coming up to rest on her side as she leaned back and laughed softly, pulling them both to the bed.

* * *

><p>"Hey." She whispered as they lay, sated, beneath her sheets. Their bodies were still entwined, legs tangled and their torsos glued together. They spoke quietly, their noses touching softly as he played with her hair, wrapping it around his index finger.<p>

"Hm?"

"I believe you now." She whispered with a serious expression, and he leaned back slightly to look her in the eye.

"What?"

"That we can work. That we can be together." She whispered again and his hand stilled. The boyish smile made its way back into his features as he spoke.

"Just because I'm awesome in bed?" She kicked him softly and laughed, rubbing her nose against his, placing a butterfly kiss on his cheek, just below his eye. She didn't want to stop touching him, ever. She was addicted.

Her movements stilled after a moment, when it dawned on her that she'd have to be at the precinct in little less than an hour. They'd spent a couple of hours in bed, loving each other, exploring each other, trading sweet words and nonsense promises, but soon enough they would have to go into the real world and face the light of day. Or night.

Tessa was still missing. That thought made Kate stiffen against Rick's body and he pulled her closer, kissing her cheek. "What's wrong?"

"We're here. We're in bed, and Tessa's with Sallinger." She whispered. Castle's hand stilled against her back.

"I know. But we can't change it right now."

"I still feel bad. I could be there, helping." Kate's eyes moved from one place to the other, scanning her own room as if looking for a way out, for a clue that she wasn't being a horrible cop by coming home and having a tryst with the man she was in love with.

Castle's hands found their place on her face, stilling her and forcing her eyes to meet his. "Kate. The guys are there, running every proof, everything they can on Sallinger. We'll be there soon enough. But you needed this, you needed this time to get ready for what you're about to face. It's not an easy thing. You know that."

She nodded at his words, her mind still reeling from everything that had happened in those two hours; who was she kidding — in those two days.

"We should go, though." She whispered, and he slowly propped himself up on his elbows, kissing her nose.

"Let's shower together."

"We'll never leave the shower, Castle."

"No funny business. I promise. I just want to be close to you." He said, his eyes filled with an honesty that scared her. She got up before him, offering him her hand to help him stand.

"You're a sap." She joked, effectively dissipating the tension that he had created with his statement. He stood up from the bed and they stopped, looking at each other in the dim light of the nightstand lamp.

It was a moment of true and complete intimacy; there they were, both naked, both with skins still glimmering from the sweat of the lovemaking session, both completely at ease with each other. There was no shame, no embarrassment, no will to shield themselves from the eyes of the other. Just pure and complete ease.

With a nod, Castle started to walk towards the shower, turning it on while Kate walked in behind him, her hands resting on his midsection. They washed each other up, sharing occasional kisses but never allowing the tension to grow. Kate felt more and more like they were saying goodbye, like two hands slowly letting go of each other, their fingers lingering until there was no more skin to touch. They finished washing themselves silently, and remained wordless until they were dressed and ready to leave the house.

Kate was taking the box out of the cabinet and placing it on the table, her hands shaking slightly as he stood by the door. Castle walked to her side and placed his open hand on top of the metallic lid. "I won't need it. Put it away."

Kate shook her head, tears finally making their way down her cheeks. "I should leave this here."

"No. Put it away. You won't need it. I won't need it, Kate." She sighed, taking the box and shoving it in the closet. She leaned against the counter and allowed her tears to fall for a second, two, maybe three. She felt his hand on her back, rubbing soothing circles, and allowed her head to lean against his chest while a sob escaped her throat.

"Being brave doesn't mean you don't get scared. It means you do get scared, but you do it anyway." He whispered in her ear. Somehow, that notion helped her calm her nerves and Kate was finally able to wipe her tears and take a deep breath. She took her gun and badge from the drawer where she usually stored them and placed them at their usual places on her body.

She imagined that for an actor, putting on a wig or a certain kind of makeup helped them get in the character; for Kate, the gun and badge worked exactly like that. She had gone from the moment when she stood in the kitchen, crying at the prospect of seeing the man who had so violently taken a part of her, to the woman who walked confidently and professionally out of the door. And all it took was her gun and badge.

Castle watched her as she transfigured into the no-nonsense detective and exited her apartment right after her. Before they could move to the elevator, however, he felt himself being pushed against the door, her slender body pressing against his and her lips taking over his mouth. The kiss was fast and thorough, urgent. They were both panting when it ended, but Kate pulled herself together faster.

"I might not be able to do it again, Castle." She stated quietly, and he followed her into the elevator a second later.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_Alright, I'm copying everyone, but since it's been such a long time, I decided to include a 'previously on ...' note at the top of the page. And I hope you all don't kill me for the... *ahem* level of this chapter. I'm working on the smutty version — which should be posted on its own, in the M section — but let me know if you're uncomfortable with anything that happens here and I'll change the rating._

_Thank you so much for the incredible support you've all given me and this fic. I'm so happy to have a group of people who are so kind and loving, reading my fic._

_Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to two people: **BerLina**, who is the cutest/smartest/loveliest cookie around and who was kind enough to read this over for me, and **DanniCoeur**, who plugged my fic yesterday and made me one of the happiest girls ever._


	16. Sixteen

_Previously on Redemption:_

_The serial killer who assaulted Kate in the past is back and he kidnapped Jordan's daughter. What he wants in exchange? Yep, your guess is correct. Kate and Jordan. So Kate spent the afternoon at home with Castle, getting everything ready to give herself away to the killer. Oh, yes, and having sex. And this happens after that._

* * *

><p><strong>XVII.<strong>

* * *

><p>Their hands didn't touch, all the way to Jordan's place. It was almost as if what they had shared that afternoon was contained to Kate's apartment, and that place only; as if it was still too fragile to withstand the weight of the world, the violence of the exterior life. They had maintained their distance, but now that they were walking down the hallway that led to the Shaws' apartment, Castle wanted to grab her, to pull her against the wall and kiss her. A part of him was afraid that that might be the last time he got to do it, like she'd said outside of her apartment, and that feeling gave him shivers. She seemed to notice, like always, and stopped in her tracks, looking back at him.<p>

"What is it?" she asked, and he shrugged it off.

"Nothing. I'm just nervous." He knew that was an understatement – he wasn't just nervous, he was a wreck. He hadn't felt like that since Alexis had fallen from a horse and passed out, when she was eight. All he had seen was his little girl flying off the animal and landing with her back to the floor, and it had been as horrible as if the world had ended right there. Now, that same kind of anxiety — that hopelessness that came with the fact that he was a writer, not a doctor or a cop, was overwhelming.

Kate seemed to understand. She looked at him softly, a tender but anxious smile playing on her lips as she whispered a simple "I know". She waited for him to catch up and they walked together to the door, entering when a FBI agent clad in the standard issue jacket walked out. The place was quieter than before, but he could hear the voices coming from Jordan and Ted's home office, where they had established the war room. The duo made its way through the hallway, entered the small room and stood at the door, watching the action.

Will Sorenson and Captain Henderson were hunched over the plans of the docks, while Jordan stood in front of the electronic board with Avery, her fingers skimming rapidly through the body heat readings of the buildings at the docks. Kate watched as the other woman went through every building methodically, checking every room, eyeing every satellite reading with a critical eye. The detective knew what was happening – Jordan was making the transition from desperate mother to FBI agent, the transformation that would be necessary for them to keep each other alive through the mission. It was something both saddening and awe-inducing – to see a woman so stoically swallow up her pain in order to fight for what she wanted. Kate knew how hard it was – she had done it herself more times than she could count.

Her eyes roamed from Jordan to Will as she moved to the table, leaving Castle to go talk to Edward, who was still in the living room. Those two seemed to have bonded, and Kate couldn't be more grateful — she knew that Castle would be able to keep that part of the family afloat until the nightmare was over, while she was working on this side.

Will's eyes rose up to meet hers when she approached them, a faint smile appearing on his face. "Got some rest?" he asked kindly, and Kate nodded.

"Yes, thank you." She replied, her eyes skimming the papers. They were looking at the same buildings Jordan was looking at, but Kate could tell they had no idea where to strike, where to hide and to set up the operation. All she knew was that they were supposed to be at the docks – did they expect Sallinger to come out of the darkness and grab them as soon as they entered the complex? That was ridiculous. "Got a plan yet?"

Henderson replied, looking up at Kate for the first time since she'd entered the room. She seemed to have aged ten years in the past twenty four hours and Kate had no doubt that it was due to the guilt she still carried over her interference with the Sallinger case, all those months ago. A part of Kate wanted to place a hand on her back and tell her that she had no fault, that the man was a lunatic and that he would have found another victim to hurt, another cop to play with. But the walls that her Captain put up were even higher than her own, and the gesture was lost in Kate's mind when the woman started to talk.

"We have already briefed the SWAT team and the agents and NYPD officers that will be around the scene. They will be surrounding the area and ready to go in and get you ladies in three, maybe even two minutes."

That guarantee filled her senses with a wave of security, of power, that she knew to be false. She knew she still wasn't safe, that things could still get complicated. But somehow, knowing the plan helped. Knowing the plan allowed her to do the math in her head and to calculate their possibilities, it instilled a sense of confidence in her that might be just what she needed to beat this guy.

"Now" Henderson continued, " all we need is to know the building where this son of a bitch is holding the child."

Ouch. The _child_? Kate saw Jordan's head turn from her spot at the board, but the FBI Agent said nothing, looking back at her images not a second later.

"People." She called out, and Kate raised her head to look at the point where Jordan was staring.

There they were: two bright spots of heat in the middle of a room, a larger figure walking from one place to the other, and a smaller one lying down in a corner. Kate watched as Jordan's eyes filled with tears, the mother in her suddenly showing through the hard headed figure she was becoming in order to get Tessa back. The agent's eyes roamed the room for some familiar ground and found Kate's, giving her a small smile.

"They're here." She whispered. "She's alive."

Kate was at her side in a minute, discreetly threading her fingers through the other woman's and squeezing her hand before letting go. "See? She's there. We'll get her back, I promise." It was a tough promise to make and she knew it, but the confidence that was starting to build up in the detective knew no boundaries. She mused for a second about her own transformation since she had left her apartment with Castle and the present time, the courage building up in her chest like a wave. She wondered if she was being foolish, but she knew she was better off going into the mission with a full heart than she would be if she was afraid.

Seeing her daughter's body heat reading seemed to have had the same effect for Jordan, who had just called her husband into the room and was now showing him the girl's figure. He seemed to take a minute to understand what she was referring to, but once he did, his smile widened. Kate looked back at the door to find Castle standing there, an amused smile playing on his lips as he watched the couple. She walked up to him and smiled.

"It's not too long now. An hour and a half, maybe less." She explained, and Castle's eyes locked with hers. "Jordan and I have to go alone, so the team is going first in order to set the places discreetly. You can go in the van with Henderson, but you have to promise me that you'll do whatever she says." She asked, and he huffed.

"When have I ever been less than obedient, Detective?"

She merely rolled her eyes.

"No, seriously. I'll go and be quiet and stay in my corner. Will Ryan and Esposito be there as well?"

"Yeah", Kate nodded, looking into the living room to find the two detectives leaning against a wall, going through briefing papers. She looked back at Castle. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I'll need someone to conspire with, Detective, in case you need us." He replied with a wink. She smiled. She couldn't help it now, could she? Not after the afternoon they'd had. She felt like a lovesick teenager.

"Castle, I swear to God I'll kick your ass if you do something stupid." She whispered, trying to suppress a smile. Her eyes roamed around the war room and she realized Edward had exited, and Jordan, Avery, Will and Captain Henderson were now going through the blueprints and designing the operation on solid ground. "Castle, I have to go. Stick with the boys, they'll take you wherever it's needed."

"Alright." He whispered, and she linked her pinky finger with his.

"You know what I can't wait to do?" She asked with a smile, before he could turn around. He looked at her inquisitively. "I can't wait to see if Gia and Marco have that first edition of The End of the Affair."

He smiled back at her, shaking his head. "Using Graham Greene to seduce me. I saw what you did there, Detective."

Still, he knew what that meant – he knew that she wanted to take him back to the bookstore, the place that had become her safe haven while he was away. It meant that she was letting him in, and she was giving him something to hold on to while she went and risked her life. It was more than he could ask for, really. There was nothing else in the world he wanted more at that moment, than to kiss her.

In the impossibility of such public displays of affection, he did the next best thing. Looking around to see if no one was watching, he brought his hand up to her face and ran a his fingers down her face, softly, tenderly. She closed her eyes and smiled, the expression vanishing as soon as his skin lost contact with hers.

"Be careful, Kate."

"I promise." She saw him turn around and her arms instinctively went around her midsection, clutching herself tightly as a shiver went through her spine. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. There. She could calm herself. She could do this.

"Sending the writer monkey away, already? I thought you liked him."

Will's voice right beside her ear made her jump slightly, her eyes opening instantly. As if his words weren't irritating enough, he had to creep up on her.

"He can't come along. You told me that."

"Of course he can't. Hell, if it were up to me, he wouldn't even be on the van. You're lucky that boss of yours has a guilt complex the size of Texas, or else he'd be on his ass in the street right now." Will said with a snicker.

Kate was so outraged she couldn't even react. "I'm— I'm sorry?"

"And he'd deserve it, too. For what he did to you before. You think people don't know, Kate? You think people don't talk about the fact that he left you and that you took him in the moment he came back home?" He asked, his voice deep, convincing. It was almost like he was mesmerizing her, his tone even — like a lullaby. If it wasn't for the incredible amount of anger bubbling inside of her chest, Kate might have gone for it and believed him. But she couldn't. She could see Castle on the other side of the living room, his smile tight as he talked to Ryan and Esposito — and that sight gave her the calm she needed to reply.

"What exactly is your problem with this situation? That he left like you did, or that I took him back when I didn't do the same with you?" She asked, her eyebrows high on her forehead, a look of amused disbelief on her face. Oh, he was getting it .

Will opened his mouth to reply, but Kate didn't give him time. "If you were half the man he is, I might have taken you back. But really, Will. You can't even compare." She said dryly, before making an impulse decision. She watched for a second as Henderson and Jordan exited the war room and the Captain picked her things up from the table, ready to move to the van. Castle was getting ready to follow her, and Will's eyes were still cast on her, wide and surprised.

Kate moved across the room and, without giving it a lot of thought, she leaned in and pressed her lips to Castle's cheek, touching the corner of his mouth with hers. She felt his hands on her waist immediately, and the kiss didn't deepen, didn't move forward. They just touched and breathed, both their eyes closed for a second. And then she pulled back, a smile illuminating her features.

"You be safe too, crazy man."

When she turned around, only a couple of people were staring, most having moved out of the room already. Henderson must have left, as well as Avery. There was only Will, at the entrance of the study, and Jordan, in the hallway. Damn, she was lucky.

Not that she hadn't wanted people to see her treat Castle in such an intimate way, but the possible consequences of her PDA were suddenly assaulting her brain and making her hands shake. If Henderson had seen them, she could send Castle home, revoke his permission to follow her around.

But luck seemed to be on her side (she silently prayed that she hadn't just used it all up, for the night) and in the room with them were only Will, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and Jordan, with her signature smirk gracing her face for the first time since the whole ordeal had begun. Kate gave Castle a look, watching as he pulled himself together and smiled softly at her, moving to leave the room. Will left right behind him, turning back to look at Kate and Jordan.

"You ladies be careful. We'll communicate on the way there, but once you reach the scene you're on your own."

Jordan nodded and Will exited, leaving the two of them alone in the previously tidy living room.

Jordan and Kate had half an hour, since the time the teams left, to get in the car and to start driving to the docks. Sallinger had established the time at midnight and they'd be there on schedule — not a minute early, not a minute later. That left them with about twenty minutes to kill.

They weren't alone at the apartment — a small team of FBI rookies was still in the war room, staying behind to guarantee that someone could answer and report back in case there was contact from Sallinger.

Kate and Jordan sat on the couch, both looking over the blueprints of the building Sallinger was in, a comfortable silence between them. Kate was surprised when Jordan's voice broke the silence.

"So, you and Richard Castle."

Kate blushed. She didn't usually blush, but the way Jordan was talking reminded her of the way her school counselor had talked when she had taken to smoking within school grounds and dyed her hair pink.

"Oh, come on. I'm dying to talk about it. Give me something to take my mind off of this, please." the Special Agent spoke, and Kate smiled.

"Yeah. We're... Yeah. I guess."

"A whole lot of sense you're making, there." Jordan looked up from the papers for the first time, a small smile on her worn out features.

"I know. I just can't talk about it. Not yet." Kate whispered, the grin never leaving her face. "It's just too big. You know what I mean?"

"Oh." Jordan said, her smile wider. She almost looked like her usual self, if it wasn't for the wrinkles on her face and the bags under her eyes, symptoms of the emotional rollercoaster that the day had been. "That's cute. Look at you, in teenage mode."

Kate blushed again. "Stop." She whined softly, and chuckled. "I'm just not sure of what we are yet. I could die tonight. A lot of things could happen, and we'd be left with nothing. I don't want to get ahead of myself."

"And you've been burned before and you think you wouldn't survive another heartbreak. That's the only thing on your mind, Kate." Jordan's words cut right through Kate's chest, and she found herself inhaling deeply. She was about to open her mouth when Jordan cut her off. "Let me tell you a story, Kate. Do you think Ted and I had it easy? Do you think I was any different from you? I'd been broken and bruised and burned out when I met him. He was consulting for a case of mine, and I fell — hard. But I refused to let him have me, because I was so badly burnt I was afraid of letting myself go again. I was thirty-five, and I was seeing everything I wanted pass me by because I was terrified of getting involved." Jordan smiled wistfully, as if she was lost in the memories of that time. "Ted never gave up, and one day there I was, getting ready to marry a college professor, the farthest that I'd ever imagined from the man I had planned to marry. And then, not too long after that, there I was, in the maternity ward, giving birth to Tessa."

Jordan's eyes filled with tears, but she swallowed them up. Kate's hand made her way to hers, and she squeezed hard.

"Do you think — do you think it didn't cross my mind today, that if I had taken the safe road I wouldn't be here today? That I wouldn't be in the kind of pain I am, knowing my girl is in the hands of that son of a bitch?" Jordan's voice broke and she took a deep breath, looking up as if in prayer. "If I didn't have Tessa, there would be no pain today. I'd just be going home, having some tea and reading."

Now it was Kate's turn to tear up. She did her best to keep the wetness pooling inside her eyes at bay, looking at the woman in front of her. Jordan looked like she was holding herself together with bubble gum and paper clips.

"But if I didn't have Tessa, and Ted, I wouldn't have the joy that I have getting home every night. I would have nothing worth fighting for." She whispered. "The safe road just isn't worth your time."

They were silent for a minute, until Jordan spoke again. "I need to get her back, Kate. I need her."

Kate nodded, a sense of duty penetrating her body and filling her up with the confidence that she needed. She rose up the couch and extended her arm to the Special Agent, who took her hand.

"Let's go get your girl back."

_Author's note:_

_Ha, you guys thought I had forgotten all about this fic, didn't you? Nope, I'm still here. I was just obscenely busy with work, so I didn't have the time or the inspiration to pick this up. In the meantime, though, I've outlined a prequel for this. So yeah. I want to finish this one, which means the chapters will probably come at a faster pace now._

_Thank you so very much to all of you who commented or started following this story. It means the world to me that you take the time to say a few words about my work. And to those of you who messaged me, you made my days. I'm still amazed that people might want to talk to me, to tell me that they want me to keep this going. It's a true honor._

_So, yeah. There isn't much I can say. Oh. OH, yes, I can send you over to read **Apples and Cherries**, by the magnificent **daphnebeauty**. That is, if you haven't yet. She wrapped it up tonight, and we are all sobbing over it. Go join the sob!fest._

_Oh and in case you want to follow my rambles on twitter, my username is **luminouslu**. My tumblr url is posted on my profile page. You're free to harass me, if I take too long with the next chapter. But do it gently. _


	17. Seventeen

_Previously on Redemption:_

_The kid's been kidnapped, the seril killer wants Kate and Jordan. Yadda yadda. Listen, if you're just starting now, you should definitely read back, or this chapter will make no sense to you._

_**WARNING:** This chapter is dark and violent._

* * *

><p><strong>XVII<strong>

* * *

><p>Detective Beckett's Crown Vic cruised through the streets of New York, making its way downtown while both women remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Jordan had requested to drive, but Kate hadn't allowed her to — her hands were shaking, her demeanor uneasy. It would be safer for Beckett to take the car.<p>

What Jordan didn't know was that Kate's hands were trembling, as well.

Kate gripped the wheel more tightly to compensate for a particularly violent shiver. The adrenaline was starting to take over her body — she knew it well. The numbness of her fingers, the unusual strength building up in her muscles, the hyper awareness that made her notice the other woman's harsh breaths at her side. Kate couldn't say that she knew what Jordan was going through — a mother's pain was incomparable, all encompassing — but she knew that there was no way they would make it through the mission if the Special Agent broke now.

"Jordan." She called out, but the redhead seemed oblivious to her calling. "Hey. Jordan." She turned to face Kate, almost surprised by the Detective's forceful tone. "Are you hanging in there?"

Jordan sighed — something didn't think she'd ever seen her do. "I'm terrified."

"I know." Kate whispered. She didn't expect such a sudden admission. "Do you think you can get over it until we get there?"

Jordan paused.

"Jordan, we have five minutes." Panic couldn't seep from her voice, no. She couldn't let Jordan know that she was actually afraid, too. She couldn't know that right now, all Kate could see was the amount of mangled children she'd seen in the entirety of her career. There they were, all of them, their faces combined into that of the tiny Teresa Shaw.

Kate's face turned to the passenger seat and her eyes fell on the woman beside her, her head against the seat, her eyes closed.

"What if she's dead?" Jordan whispered, and Kate's heart broke for her as she stopped the car.

They had reached the docks. They were waiting for the guard to let them into the complex when Kate turned to Jordan. "We left your place twenty minutes ago, Jordan. She was alive. He wouldn't do anything to her now that he's so close to us."

"Yeah." Yeah, Kate knew that being rational wasn't the most certain way to quell a mother's heart, but she was doing what she could. She needed Jordan on her feet and aware if she wanted to come out of that complex alive. And damn, she had to come out of there. She just had to.

"Jordan, we need to fight for her. I need you at your best. Can you do that for Tessa?"

Kate's phone bleeped, making them aware of the time. Three minutes before midnight. It was time for them to move. Will's voice shot out through the radio.

"Beckett, Shaw, it's time. From this moment on, you're on your own. No communications, no weapons. We're right behind you, but you might have to fight on your own while you're there."

Thanks a lot, Captain Obvious.

"Agent Shaw, your husband would like to say something." Will informed, and a click was heard on the other side of the line. Jordan took a deep breath, steeling herself before she heard her husband's voice.

"Jordan. Are you there?" Ted's voice shot through the speakers, a little loud. It was like he was picking up a microphone for the first time, not really expecting the noise to be this loud.

"Yeah." She replied, her voice small.

"Just... You know."

"I know, Teddy." The endearment that slipped from the redhead's mouth made Kate feel like she was intruding on a personal moment. She looked out the window. "I know."

"Be safe."

Before the line clicked, Will spoke again. "Kate, I have someone for you, as well."

Kate couldn't help rolling her eyes with a smile. "What, Castle?"

"Just... I called Marco. They have the book. It's waiting for you."

Kate smiled. There it was. He was giving her the glimmer of hope, the drive to come home to him. He wouldn't say it in so many words, but he'd found a way to pull her in. Hell, she'd fight whatever she had to in order to go back to the arms of that man.

"We'll go get it when I come back, Castle." She said, and heard him sigh on the other side of the line. Will's voice appeared again.

"Good luck, ladies. Hopefully, we'll see each other soon."

The line clicked and Jordan rolled her eyes. "I find this Will Sorenson to be extremely annoying."

"He's good at what he does." Kate shrugged.

"Whatever." Jordan replied. "Let's go."

They both took deep breaths as they entered the docks, driving to the square that held the administration buildings. That was the center of the complex and they expected to be picked up from there — the warehouse they had cased before was just a block away, he would have no trouble going back and forth in less than two minutes. It was perfect for Sallinger.

Kate turned the car off and unbuckled her seatbelt. She shared a look with Jordan before moving her hand to the door handle. She tried to silently convey everything that was on her mind — the pain she felt for her friend and the gratitude for the fortress Jordan had been when they had first caught that serial killer; the empathy, the understanding of her pain and her irrationality, because she was a mother, everything Kate was not (not yet, she told herself and her mind drifted to Castle for a moment). In that second, a thousand words passed between the two of them. She was slightly taken aback as she saw Jordan's hands designing a cross on herself, from her forehead to her stomach, to her left shoulder, to the right. She nodded at Kate and they walked out of the car together, hands raised.

"Sallinger, we're here." Kate called out, her voice strong and steady. She stood in front of her car with Jordan, both their arms pointing up at the sky. Around them, the streets were dimly lit, like she knew they would be. In about four hours, this place would be bubbling with movement from the ships and cargo coming in, but right now it was as quiet as a desert.

For the first time, it crossed Kate's mind that she would be put face to face with the man who had left those marks on her body. Until this moment, she had run on the notion that they had to get Tessa back, that the girl was all that mattered. Now, however, she was facing the certainty of having those eyes stare her down again, of the possibility of having his hands run over her body once more. It made her want to vomit.

"Detective Beckett. Special Agent Shaw. Welcome to the darkness." They heard through the audio system of the docks, and a shiver ran through Kate's spine. There it was again, that voice. She could hear him in whispering in her ear, his breath on her cheek. She could feel it all over again.

No.

She would not cave.

"To your left, there is a box." The voice said, the metallic tone of the megaphone not able to cover the slight drawl in Sallinger's voice. It was disgusting. "Look inside."

Kate looked to the ground at her left side and saw a small open box, she motioned for Jordan to stay put and took the couple of steps to be able to look inside. There were a few pieces of black fabric, as well as a bag of plastic ties.

"Tie yourselves up with the plastic cuffs." He chuckled. _Chuckled_. He was having fun with the situation, and the level of disgust in Kate's chest was rising to epic proportions. "Do it now, so I can see."

Kate took the ties and watched as Jordan extended her arms forward. If they were tied on the front, they had a bigger chance of setting themselves free. "No. Agent Shaw's hands go behind her back. Tie her up, Kate." There was the chuckle again. "You're going to have fun, I promise."

"Go to hell, you mother fucking son of a bitch."

She pulled the ties on Jordan's wrists, leaving about a finger of extra space. Maybe she could set herself free. Maybe they taught her how to do that in Quantico. Maybe Kate was just desperate. Either way, she thought it was better than nothing. She touched Jordan's fingers with her own in a gesture of assurance, and the other woman took a deep breath.

"You can tie yourself up in the front. You'll need you teeth to pull the ties tight and neat." He ordered, and Kate slid her hands into the circle she had made with the plastic, pulling the strap with her mouth.

"Alright now, girls. Now I can join you."

They waited in silence. Kate's eyes ran through the dark alleys that surrounded them, expecting to see him appear from somewhere. They were tied now; there wasn't much they could do. They were giving themselves away to a man who had tried to rape her, who had killed five women and who had kidnapped a child in order to get to the two of them. This was the end of the line. They were at his mercy.

She had to focus. She had to fight those thoughts, because there was a possibility that they could come out of there. Castle was waiting for her in a van somewhere. He was alive and here, and wanting her and she had something worth fighting for, this time.

When Sallinger had attacked, Kate's guilt had followed her around for months. She had somehow reached the conclusion that she had only been that careless because she had given up on living — her father had cancer, her job performance had taken a blow since Castle had left and her mother's case was still unsolved. She hadn't fought back, because she hadn't had the will to do it. Everything that defined her was falling apart.

This time was different. She had someone to go home to for the first time in a long time; she felt like she had a lifetime ahead of herself, not behind her back. She knew she had to get out of this. She had to get back to him. God wouldn't be so cruel.

And then she saw him.

He moved slowly, his steps calculated. He was approaching them from the alley right in front of the car. A street lamp illuminated him from behind, outlining his figure against the darkness in a way that would be poetic, if it wasn't so tragic. And he was carrying the girl in his arms.

She was limp, completely limp in his arms. Like she was sleeping. Or maybe —

"Kate. Kate she's..." Jordan's voice had a note of panic that had the Detective's stomach drop.

"No. She can't be."

Tessa's little body was sagging against his arms and, as he approached they saw her complexion, her pale little freckled face, completely deprived of color. She looked —

No. She couldn't be.

"Oh God." Jordan's eyes were stuck on the girl as Sallinger leaned down and placed her on the floor. She didn't react. There was no movement on the girl's part. None. Kate made an effort for her eyes to scan through the darkness but it was too much, too dark and she couldn't see and —

"Hello, Ladies."

They couldn't hear him, both their eyes fixed on the little girl. She wasn't breathing. Or was she? She couldn't tell, it was too dark and their eyes were still sensitive from the light on the street Sallinger had come from. She didn't know. She couldn't tell and the girl was there and oh God, she had to prevent Jordan from moving forward as she lunged for the child.

"No. Jordan, we can't."

"Oh God, Kate. She's — Oh God, no."

She couldn't lie. She couldn't. But she might have to. Kate didn't know. Tessa could be alive. She could.

"She's alive, Jordan. I saw her, she's alive." She lied.

"But I didn't — she's too white. She's..." Jordan whispered.

"She's breathing." It killed Kate to have to lie, but she knew it was necessary. She couldn't have Jordan go insane, not now.

They seemed to have forgotten the man standing beside the girl with a cruel smile on gracing his features. Kate knew that smile well. She'd seen it above her as his hands roamed her body, she saw it every couple of weeks, sometimes more, in her nightmares. She knew the cold that emanated from it, and the shivers it gave her.

But right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the girl on the floor, lying on her back like she was in a coffin — too small, too pale, too still. Looking too much like death itself. Kate wanted to cry just as much as Jordan, but she couldn't. One of them had to keep it together.

She hadn't expected Jordan to hold up too well — she knew that they got hostage training in the FBI Academy, but she also knew that when someone's child was in danger, all their training went out the window. It was all instinct. And right now, Jordan's instincts were swimming between the will to fight like a lion and the will to mourn her lost cub. Kate could see it in her eyes, in the death glare she was giving the man in front of them.

"The child stays here. Your team should be able to get to her soon, do whatever they have to do." He informed them. Jordan shook her head.

"No."

"Yes." He nodded and took a step towards them. "I'm going to blindfold you now. And then you're going to come with me."

Kate knew she couldn't react. She still hadn't been able to see if the girl was alive, but if there was any possibility that she was, she'd have a better chance if both women went with Sallinger. The paramedics would be here in a few minutes. They'd get to her, do whatever they needed. _God, please don't let her be dead_.

He covered Jordan's eyes first, her hands turning into fists behind her back as she leaned her head against Kate's shoulder. She could feel her friend's breath on her shoulder as she fought the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. No. He wouldn't see her cry.

But he was close. So close. She could smell him, she could feel the scent that had invaded her senses so violently that night, the scent that still lingered in the back of her mind when Kate got scared. She could smell him, feel his hands on her. So when he went around her and covered her eyes with the black strap of fabric, Kate took a deep, shaky breath and clenched her hands into fists. She could feel her fingernails digging into the skin of her palms, but she didn't care. If she had some sort of pain to focus on, she wouldn't focus on him. She wouldn't focus on the fact that he had her at his mercy, at his will. She wouldn't focus on the possibility of having him on top of her again, of him finishing what he had started in her bed, almost eight months ago.

She felt him lean in, a wave of disgust running over her. He smelled her hair, running his fingers through her braid and nuzzling the back of her head. And then she felt it, the barrel of a gun pressing against her right kidney.

"Come with me." He grabbed both their arms as he led them around the docks.

She tried to count the steps as they went, but the blindfold was making her dizzy, making her lose her sense of direction. A few minutes after they had started, she gave it up, allowing herself to be led. They walked for what could be minutes or years, until they stopped and he let go of their arms. Kate listened as he slid open some kind of metallic door and pushed them inside, both of them stumbling.

He was more violent now. She could feel the level of anger in him rise with the way he pulled them through the doors, smashing them against one another, his grip more forceful. Kate's level of fear was on the rise as well — it was something she couldn't control, the remainders of her PTSD, the reactions her body had against her best effort. The shaking, the need to bend forward and throw up. The will to scream at the top of her lungs for help, to do what she hadn't been allowed to do when he had touched her at her place.

Her blindfold was violently pulled from her eyes and when she managed to get used to the light in the room, she looked around and found Jordan, her eyes squinting against the newfound clarity.

Even through her fear, Kate managed to case the room quickly. It was empty, save for a cot in the corner where he must have kept Tessa, and a chair. The light came from a low power lamp on the ceiling.

"Now" He spoke from the corner. "I'm only interested in one of you. So for now, Agent Shaw here will go to sleep for a little bit, okay?"

Out of nowhere, he stepped in and smashed the butt of his gun against Jordan's temple. She fell instantly, her body slumping to the ground beside Kate's feet. Her stomach turned.

She was alone now. It was just her and Sallinger.

_No._

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_I'm trying to post more often now. I have the next chapter ready to get out of the oven as well, so it might just be a few more days until I post it. I realized that taking so long to post lost me some of my readers, so I'm sorry for that and I'm trying to change it._

_I feel like I need to apologize for the darkness of this chapter. It's very... me. I'm cruel with my characters. I have friends who call me the 'Queen of Angst', so you see. But it was necessary. I might not have every detail right, but the pain has to be there, it has to be real. That's the only way I can live with my writing._

_Thanks again for your support. It means the world to me, and it would make my day if you could take a few minutes and tell me what you think of this chapter. Please? Come on. You know you want to. ;)_


	18. Eighteen

_Previously on Redemption:_

_Kate and Jordan went into Sallinger's warehouse and he knocked Jordan out. It was bad. But now we're taking a step back and seeing it from Castle's eyes. And then we're taking a step forward._

* * *

><p><strong>XVIII.<strong>

* * *

><p>The team split up outside of the building where the Shaws lived. Captain Henderson went with Avery on a van along with a couple other agents, while the second van was taken by Sorenson, Ryan, Esposito, Castle and Ted Shaw, who had refused to stay at the apartment. They entered the spacious container and sat on the few chairs that filled the space. Ryan and Esposito moved to the back, sitting down and analyzing the papers they had in their hands. Castle wondered why they were so silent — they were supposed to be able to work in cooperation with the FBI, and there was something he wasn't getting. Those two were never that quiet.<p>

He was rather quiet himself. The nerves that were taking over his will earlier were now back with full force, making his hands shake and his forehead sweat. He sat on the chair and ran his clammy hands over the arm rests, leaning forward on the table that held the computer screens and the closed circuit cameras from the docks. There was barely any movement at all in that area.

The van started to move. They didn't talk as they made their way through town, the two NYPD detectives still focused on their papers and Will's eyes never leaving the screen where the two heat forms were visible. It was like he was expecting a change, an attack.

They parked the van a block away from the entrance of the complex. As soon as they stopped, Will spoke into a walkie talkie. "This is team alpha on location. Team delta, what's your status?"

Henderson's voice was heard through the speakers. "This is team delta, we're on location and ready. Already communicated with the intervention teams, they're on location as well." She explained and the communications ceased.

"Now what?" Castle whispered.

"Now we wait." Will explained, leaning back on the chair and fiddling with his pen.

Castle shared a look with Ted, who was sitting beside him, his hands on his face. As the man looked up, he could see the bags under his eyes, the wrinkles on his forehead. He seemed to have aged a thousand years in that single day. Castle wondered for a moment if the same transformation would be visible on Jordan.

"I asked her to show me the inside of one of these trucks, once. She said no." Ted spoke, and the four sets of eyes in the compartment turned to him. "I never thought I'd get to see them in this situation."

Castle wanted to hug the man. He wanted to tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he would have his daughter and his wife back in an hour, because they were heroes. They were super women, Shaw and Beckett, and they could get out of anything. They were powerful and confident and he didn't care if one of them was crushed, he had to think that they could do it. He had to think that he'd have his Beckett, his detective, back in his arms in no time.

"Ted." Was all that came out, and the man shot him a thankful look.

"I'm a professor. I teach at NYU, I'm a mathematician. I'm not a man of action, I'm a man of thought." He explained slowly, quietly. Castle got the impression that he was the only one listening., so he leaned forward. "I fell for Jordan after five minutes in a room with her. She profiled me, right there. I was thirty nine and I was this sort of geeky..." He smiled wistfully. "I was a man, a grown man, but I felt like a kid when I saw her, all powerful and confident. She smiled at me and I was a goner. But I never expected her to fall for me."

Castle smiled. Had he ever expected Kate to love him back? He had wished so, yes. But expect it? No. She'd made him think, for the first time in his life, that a girl was out of his league.

"The day she married me, I was in awe. I never thought I'd get that lucky. And then the day Tessa was born, it was just... I'd given up on that. Just a year before I was alone and at that moment my wife was giving birth to this beautiful baby girl, and naming her after a saint and I had the life I had always dreamed of." Ted's hands fell on the table as he fiddled with some papers. Castle didn't need to look behind himself to see that Will was now paying attention, too.

"You two have a good life." Castle said with a smile, and Ted nodded sadly.

"I'm starting to think that maybe I don't deserve it after all."

_What_? No. He couldn't be blaming himself, could he?

"If they die tonight..." Ted started but Castle cut him off.

"They won't."

"But if —"

"They. Won't." He insisted, as if his life depended on it. Well, it did. "I know these women, they're strong. They're the strongest you'll ever meet. They'll come out of it, we have to believe it."

Ted nodded. Castle leaned back on his chair and took a deep breath, running his hands over his face, pressing his fingers against his eyes. His life had taken a three-sixty turn in the past twelve hours. He had spent the afternoon in bed with Kate, making love to her, allowing her to remind him of what it felt like.

He hadn't expected it to feel like that, to be so overwhelming. He'd had sex before. He had even made love before, but no other time could compare to this, to the empathy and the joy, the soft touches and whispered promises, to the excitement of finally being together, even through the the pain of knowing what came next. It had felt childlike and mature, tender and raw, joyful and filled with a sense of sadness that broke his heart. Sex — no, making love, no matter how corny it sounded — with Kate Beckett was a paradox on its own.

And now here he was, and he had to believe. He couldn't pray, he had never been taught how to do so, but he could ask. Would it be too wrong to ask for something from god, when all his life he'd basically ignored the figure?

Still, in his heart, he asked. He asked whatever force was out there to bring him back his girl, he asked for her to end the night in his arms, allowing herself to be loved in the way she had been before, or even better, bigger, deeper.

His instinct told him to do the one thing he knew would help her hang on.

Kate had told him once that Marco almost never slept, that he went to bed at crazy hours. It was eleven fifty one — could he call him? He searched for the contact on his iPhone and hit the call button, leaning back and speaking quietly.

"Hey, Marco. It's Rick Castle." He said, and the man on the other side of the line coughed. "I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, no, I was just reading. What can I do for you, Rick?" He paused, and Castle knew what came next. "Is everything alright with_ Caterina_?"

He nodded unconvincingly. Thank goodness he wasn't in front of the man right now. "Yeah, she's fine. I was just wondering something; did you ever get that special edition of The End of the Affair, for Kate?"

Marco took a second to reply and Castle heard the rustling of papers on the other side of the line. "Sí. Yes, yes, Gia signed for it today. It's here, waiting for you."

"Thank you, sir. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure, Rick. Did you call just for that?" What could he say? I'm sorry, but Kate's about to walk into the lair of the super villain who tried to rape her eight months ago, and I just want to make sure she has something to come back to? No, that wouldn't work. At all.

"Yes. I'm sorry, I'm just seeing the time. I thought it was earlier."

"It's fine. Have a good night, Rick. _Buona sera_."

"_Grazie_, Marco." He said with a small smile.

"_Prego_."

Will turned around in his chair and looked at Castle. "Did you seriously just order a book while Kate's getting ready to face Sallinger?"

Castle opened his mouth, but he was cut off by Esposito's voice on the other side of the van.

"You got a problem with that, Sorenson?"

Sorenson shook his head and turned to face the screens, while Castle looked at the boys and saw Ryan give him a soft smile.

They waited a few more minutes, until Sorenson leaned forward and Castle noticed he saw Kate's Crown Vic park in front of the dock entrance. He picked up the walkie.

"Beckett, Shaw, it's time. From this moment on, you're on your own. No communications, no weapons. We're right behind you, but you might have to fight on your own while you're there." His voice was mechanic, uninterested — Castle figured that was how he dealt with the pressure, by taking a step back and putting some distance between them an the subjects. He was about to turn the walkie off when Ted leaned forward.

"Could... could I?" He asked, pointing towards the device, and the Special Agent passed it on to him.

"Jordan. Are you there?" He heard his own voice make an echo in the walkie and leaned back to talk more quietly. When he heard her simple 'yeah', his face cracked up in the widest smile Castle had seen on him, so far. "Just... You know."

They didn't need anything else. They knew. Castle was almost jealous of that kind of certainty.

"I know, Teddy." He heard from the other side of the line, and he knew that the endearment was a proof of just now nervous, how scared she was.

"Be safe." Ted almost whispered, and passed the walkie on to the FBI agent.

"Kate, I have someone for you, as well." Sorenson leaned back on the chair and extended the device to Castle with a shrug. "Kate should hear you, too." He whispered, and Castle nodded, taking it and listening to Kate's amused tone.

"What, Castle?" He smiled. He could live on the sound of her voice, alone.

"Just..." He felt like a teenager. "I called Marco. They have the book. It's waiting for you."

She took a second to reply, and when she did, he could hear the smile in her voice. "We'll go get it when I come back, Castle." He nodded, even though she couldn't hear him, and a sigh escaped his lips. He extended the walkie to Sorenson, who took it and pressed the speaker button.

"Good luck, ladies. Hopefully, we'll see each other soon."

The line went out, and they watched through the CCTV as they made their way in. They stopped in the middle of the central square. The entire team watched as they exited the car, their hands raised. Kate seemed to yell something, and then moved to a box that was placed near the car.

Will closed in on the image and saw the plastic ties.

Oh God. Sallinger wanted them to tie each other up. The five men watched as Kate expertly tied Jordan's hands behind her back and then her own in front of her torso, and waited.

Ted was the first to notice the figure appearing on the top of the screen. He gasped and covered his mouth as he realized it was Sallinger, carrying the child in his arms, walking as slowly as he could towards the women.

"It's Tessa. He's got Tessa. Oh god, she's there, she isn't moving."

The cameras were infra-red, so they couldn't discern the true looks of the kid by the image, but the way she was hanging from his arms, completely limp, gave Castle a shiver. When he looked to the side, he realized Ryan and Esposito were gearing up to go out.

"What are you guys..."

"We're going in as soon as they make the trade." Esposito explained. "There's no way in hell we're leaving Beckett alone with this guy for more than two minutes."

Castle felt a sudden wave of gratitude wash over him. These two men had Kate's back in a way he couldn't, not being a cop. They would keep her safe. He had to trust them for that. When his eyes turned back to the screen, he watched as Kate stopped Jordan from falling forward to see the girl and his heart started to beat faster.

They watched for a few more seconds, their background filled with the sound of Ryan and Esposito charging up their weapons and strapping on their kevlars. Will's hand gripped the walkie tightly, ready to make the call. He spoke into the device. "All teams, stand by. We'll be going into action soon."

He heard several voices whispering the usual "Copy that" acknowledgment and his eyes turned back to the screen, where Sallinger was now blindfolding a stiff Kate. _Damn_. He was touching her. That son of a bitch had his hands on Kate again and he could see the expression of contained disgust on her face.

Kate. _Oh, Kate_, how Castle wanted to make it all better, how he wanted to be the one touching her. How he wished he could be there with her, facing everything by her side.

Sallinger leaned forward and smelled her hair. He _smelled_ her. God, Castle would kill him with his bare hands if he could. And now he was dragging the two of them away from the car, walking them slowly through a number of streets. They followed his circuit back to the place where he was keeping Tessa and as soon as he closed the door, Will gave the order.

"All teams, go in now. Take your places. We'll need paramedics for the girl, she's unconscious."

The truck started to move to the entrance of the complex, and within a minute they were in the square, the back door opening and Ryan and Esposito storming out with Will. Ted left the truck behind them and ran to the girl lying on the floor. He took her in his arms, kissing her face, running his fingers through her flaming red hair. .

"I need help! She's breathing! I need help!" Ted screamed, and the ambulance stopped nearby, letting out two paramedics.

Everything was happening so fast that Castle could barely keep track. He stood by the screen, watching as a SWAT team entered the warehouse Sallinger had taken the two women into, followed by Will and the two detectives. It wasn't a minute before he heard Ryan's voice through the radio.

"We need medical assistance! It's... It's Beckett." Castle's hands went cold as he watched Ryan exit the warehouse, his arms covered in blood.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Note:<em>

_Please don't kill me? I'm working on the next chapter. And I beg of you: **trust me**. I know where I'm going with this._

_And whoa! The response to my last chapter was overwhelming! I still haven't gotten around to reply to the reviews, but I will as soon as possible! Thank you, thank you, thank you for saying something. It means the world to me. For those of you who took the time to write me full reviews, though, I have a special place in my heart. Nothing makes me happy like a detailed and well structured review does._

_For the people who asked if Ted and Edward are two different people, the answer is no. Ted is a diminutive of Edward — and I only use the full name to describe him in more formal situations, when related to the cops or feds or whatever. Kate sees him as Ted, so does Jordan. Castle ends up seeing him as Ted by proxy. Other than that, it's Edward._

_I hope you're still reading. And I hope you don't kill me. The darkness is fun, but remember that it's always better with a light at the end of the tunnel. And the light is right there._


	19. Nineteen

_Previously on Redemption:_

_Beckett and Shaw went gave themselves as trade for Shaw's daughter, Tessa. The SWAT team and the homicide/FBI boys went in and Ryan came out of the warehouse yelling for paramedics for our favorite detective. And bloody hands. Spooky stuff._

* * *

><p><strong>XIX.<strong>

* * *

><p>He remembered the sound of the sirens, the lights beaming against the black metal of the trucks they had been hiding in. He remembered the pair of hands that held his arm, that stopped him from going into the line of fire. He could remember looking back and seeing Captain Henderson's face, her eyes wide as she looked at the alley the medics were going into, her hand grabbing him tightly, holding him near the vans.<p>

He remembered the 'all clear', the raspy sound of Esposito's voice flying through the walkies.

_"Suspect is down. I repeat, the suspect is down."_

He remembered running, his feet almost flying above ground as his arms moved alongside his body, his mind intent on only one thing, on only one sight. Kate, and the blood on Ryan's hands and arms and legs as he came out of the warehouse for the first time. The blood, oh God, that blood and Kate was down and they needed medics, and suddenly that notion hit him like a thousand rocks, making him run faster, tread more ground as he moved.

He remembered Ryan at the door, directing the medics in as they rush inside, the detective's blue eyes wide, frightened. Castle's stomach tightened and he moved toward the other man, his breath shallow, the side of his torso burning from the exertion of the run. A voice in the back of his head was screaming that he needs to exercise more, but all he could do was smother it with another thought. _What I need is to see her_. Ryan met him halfway and his bloody hand instantly fell on the writer's arm.

He remembered the panic that assaulted him, right then. Until that point, Castle had been running on the certainty that Kate was a superwoman, that she could beat that guy, that nothing would happen. Because it couldn't, right? They had just gotten back together, they might actually have it good this time and it just couldn't be how the world worked. It couldn't be. But Ryan's eyes were scared and his hand was on his arm and this situation had all the tell tale signs of the news he didn't want to hear. No. She couldn't be dead. She couldn't be gone.

"It's not as bad as I thought, at first." Ryan said, and Castle's brain worked at a frantic pace to go back to the point where things weren't as dark, when they weren't as tragic. "She got shot in the arm, through and through. She bled a lot, though, that's why — that's why I got scared."

The young detective's face was almost ashamed, but the smile on Castle's face was so bright it could light up the whole city. "She's not dead?" He whispered, and Ryan looked panicked for a moment.

"What? No. God, no." He shook his head. "You can go in. I just wanted you to know it's not as bad as it looks."

Castle nodded, his hand making its way to Ryan's shoulder. He squeezed it for a second — it seemed like a masculine enough way to show his appreciation — and walked into the warehouse slowly, trying to make out the outlines of the doctors. The room was dimly lit, making the task of seeing through the anxiety in his chest a thousand times harder. His eyes searched the rectangular room for the paramedics whom he found huddled over two figures on the ground. One of them was down, unconscious, and he could see the strands of red hair being moved by the expert hands of the doctors as they checked her head for wounds; on the corner of the room, a couple of swat agents started to cover the body of a man with a black piece of plastic.

It was him, Sallinger. He was leaning against the wall, his legs sticking out of his torso in an awkward, unnatural position. The dots from the bullets and the blood were placed in his chest, forming an almost perfect triangle of blood. The sight was gnarly, but at the same time it gave Castle a sense of peace, or closure. That son of a bitch wouldn't hurt Kate ever again.

Kate was lying down not too far from where he was standing, and he could hear her trying to fight off the help of the paramedics. "No. I don't need that, I'm fine." He heard, and he almost smiled at her fierceness, at her willingness to stay awake, to fight through he pain. He kneeled at the side of her head and ran a hand down her face, his fingers coming out wet from the tears running down the side of her face.

"Kate." He marveled at the ability to call her name and have her look back at him, her eyes sparkling, her smile wide and almost goofy.

"Castle." She whispered and finally fell back, allowing the paramedics to see her arm. "Castle, Tessa... She was..."

He placed his hand on her forehead and touched the space between her eyebrows with his thumb. It was an awfully intimate gesture, but he needed those. God, he needed to know she was still there, still with him, her skin still warm under his touch.

"She's alive." He whispered, and her eyes closed while her forehead wrinkled in a pained expression.

"Oh, thank God." She whispered back, and he had to lean in, to get his face closer to hers. "I fought him, Rick. He tried to touch me but I fought him and he — he had a gun..." Her words came out weaker, softer as the sentence came to a halt and she sighed. "I want to sleep." She murmured, the words barely making it out of her mouth. Castle's eyes rose up to meet the paramedic's, who nodded.

"We just sedated her. Let her go to sleep. " The medic said softly.

"Sleep, Kate." He whispered, leaning in to let his forehead rest against hers, and he felt her eyes fluttering, closing. He raised his head and looked to the other woman lying on the ground, and a woman who seemed to be running the other team nodded at him.

"We're taking her to the hospital for observation, but she seems to be okay. She's just a bit out of it." She explained, looking down at Jordan, who was opening her eyes and searching the room. He approached them and kneeled beside her, taking her hand.

"Tessa. Oh God, she's gone." She murmured, and the writer shook his head.

"No, she's alive." He explained with a soft smile, as if he was talking to his own daughter. "Your husband is with her."

Jordan's expression went from confused and painful to a look of complete relief. The writer couldn't help but match the tiny smile that was now invading her features.

Castle moved around the paramedics as they moved the special agent to a gurney. "And Kate?" She asked, her voice suddenly tight, her eyebrows closing together as the doctors moved her.

"She'll be okay. I need to go with her." He said, and smiled as Jordan's hand found his own. He had always admired the strength and the intelligence of the woman in front of him, but now there was more. Jordan Shaw seemed to have a glow within herself. As if her life was perfect and nothing, not even a deranged serial killer could tear it apart. As if she was bigger, stronger than everything else.

Jordan dropped Castle's hand and he left, picking up his step to follow the team that had taken Kate's gurney to the ambulance. He passed Will on the way out and his inquisitive look made the writer stop in his tracks.

"Shot in the arm, through and through." He explained quickly, and Will nodded.

"Go with her to the hospital. I'll see you there."

* * *

><p>The smell of the hospital waiting room was nauseating, to say the least. Everyone who sat in the locked room was pale, their faces torn between the relief of having Tessa back and the concern for the women who were still being assisted.<p>

Castle's hands shook as he placed them on his knees, leaning forward. Kate was in surgery — they needed to reconstruct the bone that the bullet had destroyed, and he had been sent to the room where the rest of the people related to the case were waiting, as well. He knew most people were there for himself and Kate — his mother and Alexis, sitting on each side of him, Ryan and Esposito wandering from one side of the room to the other while Lanie, seemingly the only one in full control of her abilities, fetched them coffee and whispered words of comfort to her financé's ear. Jim Beckett was there as well, of course, sitting in the corner in a position that mimicked that of Castle himself. Edward wasn't there — had been given the all-clear so he could be with Tessa, who was in the children's wing, and wait for Jordan up there.

A part of him wanted to see her, to make sure the girl was alright. He had never met her, yet he felt an almost father-like concern for her well being, for the knowledge that Kate wasn't in surgery in vain. He wanted to touch Jim's back and tell him not to worry, too. The man had spent way too much time in hospitals, in the past year.

Castle got up from his chair and moved to Jim's side. The man looked up at the writer and Castle could see his pale complexion, the way it seemed almost translucent. He wondered for a second if he looked the same way.

"How are you holding up?"

"I don't know." Castle replied and fiddled with his own fingers in front of himself. "I'm worried. And I'm scared."

Jim chuckled softly. "I'm scared too, Rick."

* * *

><p>After sitting with Jim for a while, trying to silently offer all the comfort he could — and taking some for himself in seeing the man so sure, so steady, the father figure he'd never had — Castle rose from the chair and moved to the door. Glancing across the room, he realized his mother was immersed in a magazine while Alexis slept against her shoulder. They wouldn't miss him.<p>

Ryan gave him a short nod when he left the room and made his way to the elevator that would take him to the children's wing. He waited as a group of surgeons moved out of the small box and entered, leaning against the back wall and closing his eyes.

What a couple of days. He revisited the moments that had marked him, since the day before — Sallinger's escape, Jordan's arrival, the panic attack that had taken over Kate in his living room. Those two days seemed like a lifetime. Their conversation in the morning and the news of the kidnapping. Jordan's apartment, and how it wasn't too different from his own when Alexis was little, how the tiny Tessa had the same toys his daughter had, the same Dr. Seuss books, the same Sesame Street figurines. The rosary on the nightstand.

His face split in a smile and he was thankful for being alone when he thought of that afternoon, at Kate's apartment. He could have remembered the testament, the pain of seeing her try to hold her tears in front of that counter — but his brain chose to go elsewhere: to the softness of her skin beneath his fingers; to the tenderness he could see in every move, every touch of the lips, every path her tongue had traced on his body. The adoration in her eyes, and in his, the wonder of finally being together, of having — at last — that which they had dreamed of for so long. He wished for a longer elevator ride so that he could remember more; her hands on his back and her mouth on his neck, the way she pulled him flush against herself, the way she rose above him and allowed the curtain of her hair to fall around their faces, locking them up in their perfect little world of darkness, of light, of joy and sorrow, of pain and fear and certainty and confidence. Their own little perfect universe.

He was dragged out of his thoughts when the elevator doors opened and he saw Jordan Shaw's red hair in the corridor, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she looked steadily at whatever was behind that glass. It didn't take a genius to know that she was looking at her daughter — if not just for the soft, tender look on her face.

He approached her silently, still trying to come down from the dreamland he'd allowed himself to enter in the lift, and she turned her head when she saw him, smiling widely. There it was — the relief and the joy of having her girl back.

"Hey Castle." She whispered, and he placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly. It was all he could do not to hug her.

"Hey." He greeted and turned to look at the room. "I didn't know you'd be out here already." Tessa was asleep, her arm wrapped around the stuffed rat her mother had been carrying around for her; Ted was there as well, sleeping on a chair beside the bed, his hand placed tenderly on the girl's arm, as if he wanted to be sure she was there. He couldn't help but smile at the picture.

"Yeah, they ran some tests, but apparently I'm just as smart and witty as I was before." She said with a humorous sigh.

"How's she doing?"

Jordan uncrossed her arms and stuck her hands inside the pockets of her jacket. "Severely dehydrated, they think she might be in shock, but she'll be okay."

"Good."

They stood silently for a few minutes, each of them lost in their own world as they watched the father and daughter sleep peacefully. Castle was the one to break the silence.

"I didn't know you were Catholic."

Jordan smiled and he thought he saw a flash of pride in her eyes. "Born and raised. I'm quite liberal, but I guess the heritage is there."

"You don't seem very guilty, to me." Castle joked softly, and she laughed.

"Oh, Mr. Castle, I thought you knew better than to trust the clichés."

"Touché." He whispered, and they smiled.

"What gave me away?" Jordan asked after a minute.

"There was a rosary in Tessa's room. And your husband said you named her after a Saint."

"Yeah." Jordan sighed softly and smiled. "Saint Teresa of Avila. Spanish, first woman to become a Doctor of the Church. Fierce, strong, smart, inspired. Everything that I wanted my daughter to be."

"She is. She's tough."

"Yeah." Jordan smiled and sighed softly. "I just hope this doesn't break her."

A sudden thought went through Castle's mind and he felt his hands go cold. "Agent Shaw, did they check —"

"He didn't touch her." She said quickly, sensing his distress. "They checked everything, thank God. And you know you can call me Jordan, right?" She smiled. "You seem to be my friend's boyfriend now."

Castle's mouth opened and closed a couple of times without a single sound coming out. Was he? Had Kate told Jordan that they were boyfriend and girlfriend? Where were they, middle school? But oh, he wanted to be. Her boyfriend. He wanted it, he craved that position, that kind of ownership of her feelings — though he knew that if he ever exposed it as such, the detective would probably shoot him in the leg — and oh, she was telling friends? Had she actually told her friend that they were together? What else could she have —

His random thoughts were interrupted by a bleep from his pocket. Jordan looked at him expectantly as he smiled at the content of the text message.

"That was Esposito." He explained. "Kate's out of surgery and awake." He stopped for a moment before the words came out of his mouth, his expression like that of a little boy on Christmas morning. "He said she's asking for me."

Jordan Shaw smiled as she saw the man joyfully stride through the hallway until he reached the elevator. When the doors opened, she saw him enter the metal box with a flourish of his foot, almost like a dance step. She laughed softly at his childish demeanor, and turned to look at Tessa and Ted, still asleep. It would be fine. Things would be fine, and she could never thank Kate Beckett enough for helping bring her baby back.

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_I am SO, so sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. If I had known I'd take this long, I wouldn't have posted the chapters before this. I love a cliffhanger as much as the next person, but this was close to cruel and I felt terrible for not having the time to write. The thing is, life got in the way, NaNoWriMo started and things got crazy. But it's here now._

_The Jordan/Castle scene at the hospital is actually the reason I wrote this entire fic. It's the first scene I pictured, the first bit of dialogue that I wrote down on my notebook, so I was happy to finally get there. It isn't as good as I had imagined — isn't it always better in our head? — but I do enjoy the imagery. I hope you guys do, as well. There's only one more chapter left, and then the epilogue._

_I am so happy that so many of you found the time to write me a word or two during the time this fic has been up here. Thank you. So very much. You're the ones that keep me going._

_Talk to me? Reviews make me write faster!_


	20. Twenty

**XX.**

* * *

><p>"Hey." She whispered as he walked into the room, his breath coming in small fits from running down the hallway in search for her room. She was smiling, even though her arm was in a cast that went all the way up to her shoulder and the bruise in her cheek was showing in the form of a purple stain.<p>

She was alive. Holy crap, she was alive and there were no more threats on her life, no more hanging by a thread. She was there, she was smiling and she was his.

The velocity of his steps surprised them both. In a second, he was leaning against her on the bed, his hands coming up to cradle her face as his mouth sought hers, a sense of urgency taking the two of them over. It was fire and ice, light and dark, pain and pleasure. It was the kind of kiss made of pure, hollywoodesque mirth. Their tongues came out to play almost immediately — tasting, probing, teasing, loving. Their lips crashed together, the noses brushing one another as their heads moved, their breaths mingled, their hands (only one of Kate's) roamed. It was big and modest at the same time; it was joyful and filled with a quiet sense of relief, of abandon. It was everything.

It took them a couple of minutes to allow the kiss to fade, to catch their breaths and to pull back completely. The smiles on their faces were ridiculous, Kate would say. He'd probably say they looked like teenagers, but his tone would be kinder, almost proud. They'd laugh at it, later. They'd also sigh in relief for the second chance they had been given.

"Castle." She whispered as she ran her fingers along his face.

"Yeah."

"You're sitting on my IV." She said with a chuckle and saw him jumping off the bed, looking around. She tugged on the plastic tube and placed it out of the way, while Castle seemed to get nervous and sat on the bed, almost out of Kate's reach. She rolled her eyes. "Oh come on. Get closer, would you?"

His face split in that smile she loved, the one that made his eyes wrinkle and her heart flutter. Good God, she was in love with this man. Madly so. But she needed to be sure he was, as well. She needed to be sure what he'd felt the day before wasn't a product of the stress, of the adrenaline of the case. She needed to be sure he'd want to stay.

"We need to talk." She whispered, her eyes turning to the window. It was still dark outside. What time was it, four, five in the morning?

She felt his hand clench hers, his fingers a little too forceful, too nervous. "Okay."

"I just —" Kate sighed, extracting her hand from his. She missed his warmth immediately, but forced herself to maintain her distance. "I know you were under stress yesterday. You thought I was going to die. Hell, I thought I was going to die. So I'm not holding you to the things you said."

He blinked at her, once, twice. What the hell was she saying? "Did they give you morphine or something? Are you high?"

She rolled her eyes at him, less than amused. She leaned back on the pillow, her face turning fully to the other side of the room. "I'm not joking, Castle."

"Well, neither am I." He affirmed, seemingly offended. "Are you seriously doing this? Are you trying to give me an out?"

The detective took a deep breath and flexed her fingers against the covers of the bed. She fiddled with the simple stitches on the sheet, avoiding his stare — something she couldn't quite do once he held her chin with two fingers and brought her face up to meet his.

"Kate, I don't want a way out of this. I don't need excuses, I don't want to go away. Yesterday was..." He cut himself off, smiling widely. "It was amazing. And it will be even more amazing when we don't have to rush back to the precinct and catch a bad guy." He cradled her face in his hands, her eyes finally meeting his. There was a small, hopeful smile on her face — but she was still scared, still waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it was partially his fault. He'd be damned if he didn't make her believe he'd stay. Because he would. He wouldn't leave her again.

"I'm not the same person I was when you left, you know?" She whispered, her eyes filling up with stubborn tears. "I'm damaged goods."

He smiled widely, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. She chuckled, allowing a few tears to fall and wiping them with her fingers.

"You're perfect." He whispered. "All of you. The scars and the tears and that smile and your eyes and your hands and your brain and —

She cut him off with a kiss so sweet, so tender that he wanted to melt into it. Her good hand came up to rest on his cheek, her thumb caressing the stubble that was already making its appearance.

"Alright." She smiled into the kiss. "But we take it slow, alright? One day at a time."

He pushed her back on the pillow, pressing his hands against the sides of her pillow. "However you want it, Kate."

She hummed her agreement into the kiss and pulling back suddenly.

"Castle." She called softly while he kissed down her jaw, over to her ear.

"Hmm?"

"You're on my IV again."

* * *

><p>"Castle, come on! Gia's got everything ready." Kate called from the counter at <em>Alla Luce<em>. They were buying the Christmas gifts for their families — they were spending the holidays together at Casa de Castle, like the writer had started to call it, and there were still last minute presents to get.

Castle appeared from one of the middle aisles, each of his hands carrying a stack of books. Kate rolled her eyes. "Are you serious? You're already taking fourteen, no, fifteen books. You're adding_ those_ to the pile?"

He smiled like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Kate's stack of books — already wrapped and paid by herself — was sitting on the far side of the counter, ready for her to take home. His collection, however, kept getting larger and larger every time he went over to one of the shelves to get one little thing. "So? I like books."

"Rick, that's not liking books. That's hoarding." She said with a smile that had both Castle and Marco — who was just appearing from the living room — gasping in offense. She rolled her eyes and looke at Gia, who was watching the exchange with an amused smile. The woman stared at Kate and caressed her hand with the tips of her fingers.

"Boys will be boys, _Caterina_. Even with their books." She shrugged, moving to take Castle's books from the stack and start wrapping them.

"Oh, I know." The detective chuckled and Castle turned to Gia and Marco, who were searching for more wrapping paper beneath the register.

"Are you guys sure you don't want to come over? We have enough food and space for a football team." Castle had invited them over and over again, ever since Marco had gotten Kate her copy of The End of the Affair. He genuinely wanted to have that small Italian clan at home with them for Christmas — it felt like they were Kate's family. But apparently, they had some cousins coming in from New Jersey and wouldn't be able to make it.

"We would if we didn't have the Salemis coming over." Gia explained while she finished wrapping the last stack. "You know we wanted to, Richard."

Castle extended his credit card and paid for the insane amount of books he was carrying. Kate was distracted checking out the bookshelf at the living room, so Marco leaned forward and talked to the writer in a hushed voice.

"How's she been doing?"

Castle smiled. Their concern for Kate was part of the reason he wanted to buy so many books. I felt like he owed them a great deal for taking care of her, for keeping her alive and sane while he was off being unhappy in California. Buying all these books was the only way he could think of to repay them.

"She's doing okay." He replied with a glance to the detective across the room. "She's taking off the cast in a week, then it's just physical therapy and she'll be back on the field."

"We're glad you're here to take care of her, Rick." Marco said with a wide smile on his face. "She's much happier now."

He smiled. "So am I."

* * *

><p>She picked the two small volumes from the shelf, running her fingers over the covers. It was a small edition, a limited one she had managed to buy when nobody knew about these. Two short stories from some guy who had only written those, and never been seen again. Two short stories about New York, about early summer afternoons, about a man and a woman who never seemed to get together.<p>

She had read these when her father had been in surgery, and they had been her lifeline. She'd read them over and over again, the writing striking a chord within her, keeping her inside the story, being swayed by the words as if they were a mother's hand rocking the cradle. Like Rick's books once had, these two stories had brought her back to life.

A kiss on her neck pulled her from her reverie. Castle's arms wrapped around her waist and he pressed himself against her back, inhaling her scent. He still liked to tell her she smelled like cherries, nearly every day.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked, leaning back to kiss his cheek and quietly placing the two small books on the shelf. He looked at the spines and smiled, hiding his face in her hair for a moment. "What?"

"I'm ready. Let's go home." He whispered and she turned in his arms, kissing him softly.

"Let's."

* * *

><p><strong>fin<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Author's note:<em>

_So I decided to cut it shorter. The epilogue ended up not being necessary, so I thought I'd finish the fic right here. I hope you like this ending — I sort of suck at writing fluff, so it was kind of hard for me. But I needed a distraction from some real-life problems, so I dove into this today._

_I wanted to thank you all for the incredible support you've given me, while I was writing this story. Whether here or on Tumblr, or even on twitter, you guys were amazing. I'll never be able to thank you enough. This story is yours as much as it is mine._

_I am already working on the prequel for this story. It was supposed to be a reeeeeeally long one-shot, but I might be turning it into a multi-chapter. I'm still not sure. I'm still not done with this universe._

_Again, thank you so much for everything. A special thank you note goes out to my various beta readers: **caffeine-faerie**, **Kari**, **Diana** and **Lina**. You guys are unbelievably patient with me and my addiction to commas and semicolons._

_I guess I'll see you around the webs, right? If you'd like to know more about the writing process and see me fangirl like a grown up (not really) follow my tumblr (luminous-lu) or my twitter (luminouslu)._

_I hope you have a wonderful rest of week. To my American friends and readers, have a lovely Thanksgiving! I'll see you all around_

_- Ana_


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